


London Calling

by lovinthelads



Category: Football RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-04-02 02:28:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 25,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4042291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovinthelads/pseuds/lovinthelads
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cesc has made a sudden move to Fulham in the shadow of Stamford Bridge after things in Barcelona have gotten too much for him.  His new roommate, Iker seems like too good to be true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone. I'm the kind of writer who loves some audience participation. I love comments and praise is forever welcome, but what I really crave are suggestions and active participants who want to have a hand in the direction of the story. Of course, at the end of the day, I am responsible for the content, but I love the help.
> 
> X

Cesc set down his bag and pulled out his phone. Glancing at the email one last time, he assured himself he was in the right place. The room he was renting was in a flat on Rumbold Road in Fulham. He’d found the place online, and while he was nervous about moving into a flat with a guy he’d only shared a few emails with, he couldn’t pass up a place with his own bedroom and a five minute walk from a tube stop for 500 pounds a month.

Never mind he needed to get out of Barcelona and a box down by the river would have been better than staying.

He pressed the buzzer.

“Cesc?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Come on up.”

There was a buzz and Cesc turned the doorknob which was placed in the center of the blue door. There was a stairway to his right and he dragged his overstuffed duffle bag up the flight of stairs. The flat occupied the top two floors of the four storied building. When he reached the top, he found the door already slightly ajar.

“Hello?”

“Sorry, down in a sec,” called a voice.

He pushed it open to see a tidy looking flat. The front room consisted of a living room over filled with bookshelves and a tired out looking couch. At one end was a kitchen and spiral stair case that must lead to the two bedrooms on the top level.

A moment later, bare feet came into view, and a pair of well worn jeans. The rest of the man appeared to reveal a fit body. His name was Iker. He was in his late 20s and worked over at Chelsea Football Club. 

“Hey Cesc, glad to see you made it okay,” Iker said with a warm smile. Something in his demeanor made Cesc relax already. Iker seemed as genuine in person as he had in his emails.

“Yes, it was easy enough.”

“Didn’t get lost at Earl’s Court?” Iker joked, knowing some people had trouble navigating the multitude of platforms on the District Line.

“I followed your advice,” Cesc smiled as Iker stood before him.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Iker asked as he looked down at the one tired bag.

“Yeah,” Cesc said. “I mean, you said the place was furnished and all…”

“It is, it is,” Iker assured him. “Why don’t I show you the room. You want to go grab something to eat and you can sign the lease and all that?”

Iker’s tone was light, but it was no mistake that he wanted to be sure he got his rent before Cesc got too comfortable.

“Sure, I’m starving.”

Iker led the way back up the spiral staircase. Cesc wondered if he’d end up crashed out on the sofa some night he came home late, drunk. He could see himself having trouble negotiating these things after a couple of pints.

“That’s the bathroom,” Iker said as he pushed open a door to a small space. There wasn’t anything more than necessities, but it was clean like the rest of the place.

“My room is at the front. Yours, unfortunately, doesn’t have a window,” Iker said as he opened the door.

The room was a decent size. A double bed filled most of the space with a wardrobe crammed in one corner. The bed was made with a plain navy duvet. For five hundred a month, it was a paradise.

“It’s perfect,” Cesc said with a smile as he set down his bag. “Absolutely perfect.”

“I’ll give you a minute to settle in. I’ve got to make a call about work. We can leave when you’re ready,” Iker said as he left Cesc.

Cesc laid down in the middle of his bed and sighed. This was it. It was real. He was out of Barcelona. Away from the nightmare of his life, and here, in his own place. He had enough cash in his bag to pay two months rent and living expenses until he could get a job. He had a work visa signed and ready to present at a job. Certainly he could find something in two months. 

He sent a text to his mum to let her know he’d arrived in one piece. He got the cash he owed Iker along with some for dinner. He tucked the rest under the mattress. A bank account. He was going to need a bank account.

Too many things to think about, Cesc pondered as he washed his face and put on a clean shirt. He’d lived out on his own for years and knew a little something about taking care of himself. But in a new country where he literally knew no one, was a whole different ball game.

Iker was done with his call by the time Cesc made his way back down the stairs and was sitting on the couch with his lap top perched on his thighs.

“Ready?” Iker asked as he closed the really nice looking MacBook.    
“Yes,” Cesc said as he handed over a wad of bills. “It’s 500. You can count it.”

Iker’s eyes had widened. Not that he didn’t trust the kid who seemed nice enough, but that he’d carried all that cash with him.

“I need to get a bank account,” Cesc said quickly. “I just…I didn’t want to make you wait.”

“I appreciate it,” Iker said as he accepted the bills and did indeed count through them. “You want me to write you out a receipt?”

“Uh,” Cesc stuttered. “I mean, yeah, I guess so?”

Iker found a scrap of paper and made a note for Cesc to take. “As I said in the email, I’m not going to ask for a deposit. You pay for what you break and as long as I get your rent the first of the month, I’m happy.”

“It’s a nice place,” Cesc said as he jammed the paper in his pocket.

“Thanks,” Iker said. “I travel a lot with my job, and I mostly wanted someone here while I’m away. And the rent money never hurts.”

Cesc nearly blurted out that Iker could have charged a lot more for the space, but wisely held his tongue. He was going to sign a year lease and the last thing he needed was for Iker to decide he needed to charge more. “So you really work for Chelsea?”

“I’m in the travel department. I organize the travel for the team.”

“So you go with them on away matches?” Cesc asked, impressed. Iker handed him a set of keys as they left the flat. 

“No,” Iker shook his head with a smile. As he locked up, he explained. “Well, when we go to Europe, but most of what I do is go ahead of the team before we book and make sure that places are ready for the team and all our needs. My busiest season is organizing the preseason tours. What a hotel advertises online or will tell you on th. phone is often not quite what you find when you get there. If you have multimillion dollar talent, you don’t want them staying in a subpar hotel room.”

“Eden Hazard gets cranky if he doesn’t have his comforts?” Cesc asked with a laugh.

“Oh, Eden’s not the diva,” Iker said a bit cryptically. The reached the road and the road was bathed in a gentle evening light. “There’s an Italian place up the road that I like, if that works for you?”

“Yeah, sure,” Cesc said as Iker took a right and headed down to the New King’s Road. The way Cesc had come from the tube stop had a Sainsbury and a Starbucks. This direction had a Tesco and restaurants. It was a perfect location.

The place was excellent. Once Iker talked Cesc through the lease, Cesc signed happily. He deflected questions about himself, preferring to hear about Iker’s job. Cesc was a Barcelona fan from birth, but he knew quite a bit about the big London club and enjoyed Iker’s insights.

By the end of the meal, Cesc knew he’d made a good call in taking the flat. Iker was kind and interesting and the flat was great.

As they walked home in the dusk, slight buzz from the wine, Cesc knew this was the new start he so desperately needed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cesc goes job hunting

Cesc awoke late the following morning. It was the first good sleep he’d had in years, probably. The bed was soft and the room was blissfully silent. He hadn’t even heard Iker get up to go to work, whatever time that had been. He snuggled in the duvet, not wanting to leave it. However, he needed to do too many things that morning to lie here in bed.

After he showered, Cesc headed downstairs and realized he had no food. He supposed the well organized Iker probably had some in the flat, but Cesc hated to just eat it. He’d lived with too many selfish people to want to start off on the wrong foot with Iker. But his stomach grumbled, so he made a piece of toast and a weak cup of instant coffee to tide him over until he could get to the shop.

Weighing his responsibilities, Cesc decide he probably needed to make the bank his first port of call. Once he got his money safely put away, he could start thinking about groceries and a job.

He didn’t particularly care what kind of job he got to start with. He’d worked his share of retail and food service jobs. He knew how to run an espresso machine, mix drinks, and wait tables. He really didn’t want to work in a grocery or some other kind of shop. Cesc tended to be an evening person so he thought he’d stop at the bars and restaurants, first. If he could get a place within walking distance of the flat, that would be just about perfect. 

* * * *

“Did you new roommate get moved in?”

Iker looked up from his desk to see his boss, former Chelsea great, Carlo Cudicini standing next to his desk. Carlo’s job was as director of football, but he liked to oversee the travel department to be sure that the team’s performance was in no way distracted by the extensive traveling that was required at a top level club these days.

“Yeah, really nice kid,” Iker said. “He’s from Barcelona, but his English is excellent.”

“Good,” Carlo said. “Did you get me that itinerary for DC yet?”

“Almost,” Iker said. “Waiting for it to be after nine in America before I call to confirm one last thing.”

“Americans get cranky when you call them at 6 am?” Carlo asked with a smile. He’d spent a year in Los Angles and had never been able to convince his family that yes indeed there was a 9 hour time difference between Italy and California.

“You wouldn’t like the Americans when they’re cranky,” Iker replied. He’d spent the entire month of May arranging the American tour. They were making stops in several cities. Thankfully they’d been to most of them before and it was just a matter of hooking back up with places which had worked before. America was usually a fairly easy trip. 

His cell phone rang and he glanced at the screen. Sergio. Again.

Getting up, Iker went to the copier. There were somethings you just didn’t want to deal with first thing in the morning.

* * * *

The bank was a breeze. Cesc opened up a basic account and deposited most of his cash. It was going to be a few days until he got his debit card, so he kept enough for a few days worth of food. 

The job search was proving a lot more difficult. He stopped in to every restaurant and bar within two blocks of the Fulham Broadway tube station. No one even gave him an application to apply. Not hiring, sorry, not hiring…

Dejected and his toast worn off, Cesc wandered upstairs in the mall at the station and found a Nando’s. He needed to be saving money, but a lunch out certainly wouldn’t break the bank, would it?

“Winner, winner, chicken dinner!” 

Cesc looked at the man behind the register with a start. He was bald and wore a bright smile. His name tag said “Pepe”.

“Pardon?”

Pepe’s grin widened. “You want a chicken dinner?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“You’re a healthy looking lad? Full chicken?”

Cesc had to laugh. “Uh, no. Just a half.”

“So, what level of Peri Peri? Hot? Extra hot? You look like you enjoy something spicy?”

“Lemon herb?”

Pepe sighed with disappointment.

“Sorry,” Cesc said even though he had no idea why he was apologizing for his food choice. “I’m job hunting and I don’t really need spicy peri peri breath.”

“Job hunting! Well, good luck,” Pepe said. “What kind of work are you looking for?”

“Anything,” Cesc said with a tired sigh. “You hiring?”

“What your name?”

“Cesc.”

“Can you wait tables, Cesc?”

“Yes…?”

“Good, I might hire you. What sides do you want?”

“Wait, what?” Cesc asked as he gaped at Pepe. He hadn’t even thought about coming upstairs in the mall before, and they had a job here?

“Sides? Chips? Coleslaw? Peas?”

“Chips, please.”

“Alright,” Pepe said as he handed Cesc a glass. “You get a drink and I’ll come talk to you. If I like you, I’ll hire you. Either way, lunch is on me.”

Cesc took the cup. “Really?”

“I like you kid,” Pepe said with a smile. “Hey, Oriol, take the register.” It was mid afternoon and the lunch crowd had thinned. “And get Cesc a medium Peri Peri on the chicken.”

A young man with a similarly bald head took Pepe’s place, and gave Cesc a friendly smile.

Cesc went to get himself a Coke and took a table in the back corner. Pepe arrived a few minutes later with a clipboard and a cup of coffee.

“I assume you have documentation. Catalan?”

“Yeah,” Cesc frowned. “How did you…?”

“Born in Madrid, raised in Barcelona,” Pepe said. “You sounded like home. Paperwork?”

Cesc pulled his work permit out of his bag. His mom had a friend in the state department and had pushed through his work permit for him. She knew he’d needed to get away.

“Excellent. It pays 6 pound an hour. Not fantastic, but we feed you too. Every shift you work comes with a meal. If you pull a double, you can eat twice. I can start you at 30 hours a week, but if I like you and you work out, you can get more. Match days everyone works, absolutely no exceptions. Got it?”

“Got it,” Cesc nodded quickly. A job! 30 hours a week at 6 an hour would barely make the rent, but he knew he could work more. He was a good waiter. If he could pull 50, maybe 60, he’d be in great shape.

Oriol arrived with Cesc’s plate a few minutes later and Pepe left Cesc to his meal and paperwork. Cesc even managed not to drip peri peri sauce on his tax forms. As he was finishing, Pepe returned.

“When can you start?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sergio needs to talk

Cesc probably would have been willing to put on an apron and get to work, but Pepe said it would take them a few days to get this paperwork approved through the corporate office. He gave Cesc a couple of work shirts and told him to come back on Thursday and they’d get him started training.

With a happy heart, Cesc went to the Sainsbury to stock up on a few essentials and then carried the lot back to his flat. When he arrived, a young man about his age stood pacing in front of the house. Cesc tried not to make eye contact as he fumbled to hold onto his purchases as he got out his keys. 

“Are you Iker’s new roommate?”

“Uh, yeah,” Cesc reluctantly admitted as he was forced to set one of his orange bags on the floor as he dug for the keys.

“I’m Sergio, I need to talk to Iker. Can I wait in the flat for him? He should be home soon.”

Cesc looked at the handsome man. He was darkly tanned and perfectly styled. In truth, he did look like the kind of friend Iker would have. Cesc doubted that his roommate had any unattractive friends.

Before Cesc could make a decision, Sergio scooped up the shopping and led the way into the flat.

“This is such a nice place,” Sergio was saying as Cesc followed him up. “I told him he was mental to let out the room for so little, but he wouldn’t listen to me. Of course, the perfect solution would have been for me to move in, but Iker never listens to me.”

Cesc didn’t have anything to say in reply, but as it turned out, he didn’t really need to. Sergio kept up his monologue until they were both in the flat.

“I’m gasping for a cup of tea. You want?” Sergio said as he made himself right at home.  
 “Sure,” Cesc agreed as he did actually want a cup and Sergio probably would have made him one whether he agreed or not. As Cesc put away his groceries, tucking them into the space Iker had made for him in the fridge and in the cabinet, Sergio kept talking.

“I tried to call Iker all day and he’s not taking my calls. Like I knew that Fernando was going to be at that restaurant Friday night. Seriously. I don’t keep tabs on Fernando. We just happened to run into him. And is it my fault Fernando asked us to join him? Iker didn’t have to leave after dessert in such a huff.”

Cesc wondered who Fernando was, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to get involved. By the time he was done putting away his purchases, Sergio had made two steaming mugs of overly sugared tea.

Sergio must have run out of steam because he slumped on the kitchen chair and gazed at his tea. 

“I don’t know what time he gets off work,” Cesc said to fill the silence.

“Depends on the day,” Sergio said, but his attention was now taken by the good looking young man in front of him. He needed a haircut, but overall, he was rather adorable. “So. What’s your story?”

Cesc quickly wished that Sergio would go back to talking about himself.

“Me? Nothing, really. Just moved here from Barcelona.”

“What for? You got a job here?”

“Just needed a change,” Cesc said and took a sip of the too hot tea to end the line of questioning and scalded his tongue.

Thankfully, before Sergio could start in on him again, the door downstairs opened.

“I bet that’s Iker!” Cesc said as he jumped out of his chair, very nearly spilling tea down the front of his best shirt.

Sergio decided that Iker’s new roommate was a freak show and went to get the door while Cesc got a towel to wipe up the spill. He opened the door and found a startled Iker on the doorstep.

“Sergio!”

“What did you think would happen after you ignored my calls all day!” Sergio said with a pout as he stepped back so Iker could enter.

Iker had assumed he’d find Sergio on his doorstep. He glanced at Cesc who’s face registered a trace of fear that Iker would be angry about Sergio’s sudden appearance. With a sign he turned to put his laptop case down on the coffee table. It was hardly Cesc’s fault that Sergio was a drama queen. He reminded himself to apologize to Cesc later for it.

“I’m going…up to my room,” Cesc said as Sergio gave him a side-eye glare. He escaped up the spiral staircase and abandoned his tea.

“Sergio,” Iker muttered. “He’s a nice kid and he paid me up front.”

“Who is he, anyway? He could be a serial killer.”

“Serial killers don’t eat Frosties,” Iker said as he spied the new packet of cereal in the pantry.

“How do you know?” Sergio asked with a sniff as he carried his mug of tea to the sofa. Iker grabbed himself a beer out of the fridge and followed him.

“I don’t want to talk about Fernando,” Iker said shortly as he took a pull from the bottle as he sat in the arm chair across from Sergio.

“Who said that’s what I was here for?”

Iker glared over his beer bottle.

“Okay, fine,” Sergio said. “But I didn’t know he was going to be there.”

“Bullshit.”

“I didn’t!” Sergio repeated. “I know, I know, he goes there a lot, but it’s a good place!”

“You could have said no when he invited us over,” Iker pressed. Though for the the life of him, he’d had no idea why Fernando had done so. Guilt, probably.

Sergio sighed. “Fine, but you know I couldn’t. You know I still love him.”

“I know he’s married and has kids,” Iker said quietly. “I know he’s a multimillionaire footballer for one of the biggest clubs in the world and you are throwing your life away chasing after him.”

“I know who he is!” Sergio shot back. “And I know I’m just a stupid clerk who works in a shop in Kensington, but we used to mean a lot to each other.” The fight drained out of Sergio and he leaned forward, his head dropping into his hands. “I love him.”

Iker sighed and took another long drink. It wasn’t that he was unsympathetic to Sergio’s plight, but he’d been chasing Fernando for years now and it was never, ever going to happen. Fernando and Sergio had known each other since school. They had been the best of friends and occasional lovers. But then Fernando had made it big as a footballer. Moved to England. Got married and had kids.

Sergio had followed. He’d never made a scene. He’d never demanded anything of Fernando. Had gotten room numbers off of Iker and shown up at Fernando’s hotel rooms. Been content when Fernando had called him up when Olalla and the kids were out of town.

But this season, the calls had come less frequently. Fernando had quietly asked Iker to quit letting Sergio know where they were staying which Iker had been forced to cover up, telling Sergio that Carlo had found out and told him he wasn’t allowed to any more.

And the worst of it was that Iker knew that Fernando was leaving Chelsea this summer. Fernando didn’t want to be with Sergio, no matter how much Sergio wanted to be with him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fernando contemplates his future and Cesc settles in at work.

Fernando dribbled the ball down the deserted pitch. It was early morning and off season, so it would be doubtful that many would join him. They didn’t have to report back for another week and most were still on lavish holidays. Olalla and the kids were already in Spain, settling in the house. Fernando was in the flat with the bare bones of furniture, waiting for the transfer to be completed and he’d put the place on the market and follow.

So today he had nothing to do but train. He was going to miss this place, to be sure. The team was close and the staff were practically a part of his family. London had such a great music scene and he was going to miss going out with friends.

Sergio.

Fernando ran faster. He needed to talk to Sergio and he didn't know what to say. Sergio had been his best friend since he could remember. Sergio had been with him through every life transition he’d ever made. But now things were different. Fernando was over thirty now. He needed to think about the rest of his life. Of his life after football. And that life needed to be dedicated to his family. His wife and children had made countless sacrifices so he could be a footballer. Sure, the money had kept them all in a very comfortable lifestyle, but he was missing so much of his children as they grew up. He wanted to be with them every day.

He didn’t want to lose Sergio. He wanted to keep Sergio as a friend, but he knew that was selfish. He knew that Sergio wanted more from him than a beer on a Sunday afternoon to watch the football.

As long as Sergio stayed single, gazed at Fernando like he could eat him whole, Fernando knew the only thing he could do was to move to Madrid with his family.

And for Sergio to stay here in London.

“You look lost in thought.”

Fernando realized that Eden had joined him, a ball at his feet. “Yeah, sorry.”

“No worries. You mind if I join you?”

“No, of course not,” Fernando said as he flicked the ball at his feet up into his hands. Eden kicked his own a few feet away and the two began passing back and forth.

“They have me in for some rehab,” Eden said. “That calf tightened up on me the end of last season and Eva wants to keep an eye on it.”

Fernando couldn’t fault Eva. She never asked you to do something she didn’t think was necessary. “I’m just staying fit, and this gym is as close as any.”

“Okay, mostly I’m here for the food,” Eden said.

“It’s roast chicken day,” Fernando said as a smile made it’s way to his lips. It faded as he thought about how much he was going to miss everything at Chelsea.

At least he was going home. Home to Madrid.

* * * *

Cesc quickly got into the rhythm at Nando’s. As a waiter, it was mostly his job to bring plates to tables and check in on customers. Pepe ran an efficient kitchen, and Cesc knew from experience that an organized kitchen made life on the restaurant floor immeasurably easier for the wait staff. There were few complaints about food quality other than from the usual impossible to please people. But Cesc had an easy smile and never argued when a customer asked him to refill a glass even though the drinks were self-serve. There weren’t too many tips, but enough to add a tidy little sum to his earnings. The place was frequented by tourists on their way to see the Chelsea stadium, Stamford Bridge, and people on holiday were generally in a good mood.

At the end of his shift a few days after he started, Cesc sat down in the back room with plate of chicken and chips. It was late and they’d closed. Once the dining room was cleaned, Cesc was free to go, but he was hungry and his chips would have been cold before he got home.

Oriol, just having finished the kitchen, joined him with a beer.

“It’s so nice to have someone competent on the floor,” Oriol commented as he stole a chip from Cesc.

“The other waiters do alright,” Cesc said, feeling he ought to defend his coworkers, but knowing who Oriol meant. There was another waiter, Andy, who wasn’t the most..focused on his job.

Oriol nearly snorted beer out of his nose. “Cesc, you’re too fucking nice.”

Cesc grinned. “I been here less than a week. I don’t think I need to be making any enemies!”

“Probably wise. Oh, and don’t sleep with your coworkers. Or anyone over in the pub across the way.”

Cesc raised an eyebrow. “How about people at the Pizza Express next door? Or the cinema? I had my eye on the popcorn boy?”

Oriol laughed out loud as Cesc tried not to smile, but failed. 

“Okay, but the cashiers at Sainsbury’s are totally off limits.”

Cesc nearly choked on his chicken as he and Oriol fell into a fit of giggles.

“Hey!” Pepe called from his office where he was finishing up for the evening. “I’ll have no frivolity after hours.”

“Sorry!” Oriol called as he took another drink of his beer. 

Pepe saved the spreadsheet he was finishing and came out to join them. “Cesc, do they not feed you at home?”

Cesc glanced down at his plate piled high with the left over chips he’d cleaned out of the fryer at closing time. “I…”

“I’m kidding, put some hot sauce on those things,” Pepe said as he grabbed several. “We had a good night.”

“Does that mean we all get raises?” Oriol said.

“That means you can have that beer on the house. You want one, Cesc?” Pepe asked as he got up.

“Please,” Cesc said as he wiped his fingers on his apron. He was sure at some point he would tire of eating the delicious chicken for dinner every night, but he couldn’t get enough of it at the moment. He supposed that was why Oriol was settling for only a beer that evening. Perhaps if you cooked enough of something, you had no desire eat it.

Cesc thanked Pepe for the bottle of beer he handed over. Pepe was an awesome boss. He told you what you needed to do and expected it got done. Here he was sipping a beer with the staff after hours and not arguing with them about having clocked out or if all of their work was done.

“Any wild plans, lads?” Pepe asked as he settled back and took another of Cesc’s chips.

“Going home? Going to bed?” Cesc said.

“Cesc! You’re young! You’re in an exciting new city! You need to get out and live!”

“I’ve worked the past three nights until midnight,” Cesc said. “Maybe if someone would give me a day shift I could manage it.”

Pepe chuckled. “Such ungrateful employees. How about Friday night I leave Abby in charge and we all go catch a gig or something.”

“Oh, that new band I was telling you about are in Camden Friday night,” Oriol said excitedly. 

“Sounds like a plan,” Cesc said happily. He’d not been on a proper night out in ages. They chatted about the London music scene.

Oriol finished his beer and looked at his watch. “I better go or I’ll miss my bus.”

“You on early tomorrow?” Pepe asked. The place didn’t open until eleven so it wasn’t uncommon to work an late and an early back to back.

“Yup,” Oriol said.

“Can you open? I need to take my mum to the doctor’s.”

“She okay?” Oriol asked, concerned.

“Same old,” Pepe sighed. Cesc tried not to be eavesdropping, but Pepe willingly filled him in. “My mum’s got MS. When it flares up she gets panicky and we’re forever in the doctor’s surgery.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Cesc said, thinking of his youthful, healthy mum. He wasn’t sure he could survive without her strength.

“It is what it is,” Pepe said as he got up after Oriol.

Cesc tipped the chicken into a carry out box as he could see Pepe was wanting to leave. He downed the last of the beer an got up.

Oriol’s bus arrived just as they stepped out of the mall and they waved goodbye to him.

“You live just up the way, don’t you?” Pepe asked.

“Yeah, over on Rumbold Road.”

“Cesc?”

Cesc turned to see Iker coming out of the tube station. “Oh, hey Iker, this is Pepe, my boss.”

“Hi,” Pepe said as he eyed Iker.

“Pepe, this is my roommate, Iker.”

“Nice to meet you,” Pepe said and glanced at Cesc like ‘you never said your roommate was gorgeous.’

“Hi,” Iker said with a smile. “You headed home?” he asked Cesc.

“Yes,” Cesc said brightly as he ignored Pepe and then had to avoid looking Iker in the eye as he, of course, had noticed his roommate was gorgeous, but the last thing he needed right now was to fuck up his living situation because of a stupid affair with his roommate.

Once thing Cesc had learned in life was that giving up a good thing for an easy fuck was about the worst choice you could make.

“See you tomorrow,” Pepe said as he eyed Iker.

“Night,” Cesc said as he and Iker headed up the road. 

“You seem to be enjoying your job,” Iker commented as they crossed the Fulham Road to duck down the back way to Rumbold.

“Very much so,” Cesc said. “And free chicken.”

“Is there enough to share?” Iker asked as he eyed the bag Cesc was carrying.

“Sure,” Cesc smiled as, in truth, he’d filled up on the plate of chips.

“I think you and I are going to make excellent roommates.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cesc muses on what brought him to London; Fernando doesn't want to face Sergio.

Chapter 5

 

Cesc knew he needed to check his email, but he was dreading it. Among the reminders to pay his mobile phone bill would be any number of messages from old friends who were wondering where he’d disappeared to. He wouldn’t mind a message from Xavi checking in on him, but he knew that wouldn’t be the only one. He’d changed his phone number before he left and only given the new one to his mum and his sister and a couple of people at Nando’s.

Pouring himself a bowl of Frosties, he sat on the couch. He turned on the TV to something mindless and booted up his laptop. The thing had seen better days and he wondered if he could save up enough in a month or so to get himself a new one. Or did he want a tablet? Or a better phone?

Logging into Gmail, he say he had fifty-seven unread messages. Maybe there where a lot of adverts for Viagra.

But when Cesc clicked on his inbox, he saw that dozens of them were from a very familiar email address. He clicked on every one and relegated it to the spam folder.

No. Cesc didn’t care what he had to say. There were no excuses that would have mattered, anyway.

He clicked through remaining few. Apparently his mum had paid his mobile bill and his credit card. He sighed as he closed the laptop. He was grateful, but he needed to stand on his own two feet. He was standing on his own feet. He had a job. He had a flat. He was making new friends.

He was an ungrateful shit, Cesc thought with a sigh as he opened the laptop again an sent a thankful message to his mother. She was too good to him by far. She let her son make dozens of mistakes and was always there to collect him and put him back on his feet again. Wasn’t it her who’d suggested that he leave Barcelona to begin with?

“There’s more to life than Spain, Cescky,” she’d told him late one night when he was crying in bed after yet another fight with Pep. “Maybe it’s time to go see something else.”

“But I’d have to leave you,” Cesc had protested through tearstained eyes.

“Cescky, only a very selfish mother wishes her children to stay where she is and never grow. If I thought Barcelona held your future, I’d love to have you stay, but your future is not here.”

‘What about…?”

“Your future is not with him.”

Cesc finished the last of his soggy Frosties and carried his dish to the sink where he rinsed it out and left it on the side to dry. Iker was meticulous about keeping a clean kitchen, and despite the fact that he’d signed year lease, the last thing Cesc wanted to do was make his roommate/landlord unhappy with him.

No, Cesc liked Iker a lot. Last night they’d come home together and shared the chicken and a few beers Iker had on hand. Cesc had lightly teased him about his affections for crappy American beers and Iker had laughed and told him that fine, it was now his job to stock the fridge.

Cesc sorted through the cash he had on hand until payday. This Friday he’d get a small check for the couple of days he’s worked in the last pay period and then two weeks until his first real check. He wasn’t touching anything he had in the bank until that first real check came in, just to be sure.

Cesc hadn’t always been so good with money. But hard lessons had been learned and Cesc knew better, now.

He had enough to go get himself another pillow for his bed and beer for the fridge. There was a big Tesco up by Earl’s Court. 

Shit, Cesc thought with a sigh. He needed to get an Oyster Card. How much did a Tube pass cost, anyway?

After a quick internet search, Cesc decided he could probably just walk up to Earl’s Court. A week pass would cost him more than this week’s food budget. How the hell did anyone manage to afford to live in London, anyway?

He briefly wondered how Iker had afforded this place to himself before getting Cesc as a roommate. Maybe travel director at Chelsea was a really good paying job.

HIs phone beeped, and expecting his mother, Cesc was surprised to see a text from Oriol. 

“You off today?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna catch a movie?”

“I got some shopping to do- want to meet at Earl’s Court?”

“Cool. An hour?”

“K.”

Cesc put down the phone with a smile. He’d been expecting to spend his day off alone, but this would be more fun.

* * * *

“Tomorrow at 8 am,” Fernando’s agent was telling him as his stomach sunk into his shoes. 

“I’ll be there,” Fernando promised. Tomorrow morning he’d get on a plane to Spain to sign contracts and be presented to the fans. 

Which meant he had about 24 hours to say good bye to Sergio or risk him finding out from the press and not from Fernando. As much as Fernando dreaded this conversation, the other option was too cruel for words.

After he hung up with his agent, he turned the phone over in his hands. How should he do this? In public, Fernando decided at once. If he went over to Sergio’s they’d end up in bed and he’d already told himself the last time was going to well and truly be the last time. No more slip-ups.

He sent Sergio a text. “You free tonight? We need to talk.”

There was a long silence from the phone. Fernando paced the empty flat. He had a couch and a coffee mug. A closet with less than a suitcase full of clothes. There was nothing in here to distract him.

Jamming a pair of trainers on his feet, he grabbed his earbuds. A run. He needed to go for a run. Get himself out of his head.

Fernando was half way out of the flat before he realized there were tears running down his face.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fernando goes looking for Sergio.

Iker came home and found Cesc had invited a friend over. Not that he’d expected that Cesc wouldn’t have friends to the flat, but after coming home to an empty house for so long, it startled him a bit to have two giggling boys sitting on his couch.

“Oh, hey Iker!” Cesc bounded up as he saw the door open. “This is my friend Oriol. He works at Nando’s with me. We wanted to play some video games, if that’s cool?”

Iker looked to see that they had gotten out the controllers, but the TV was turned to a movie. “Hi Oriol. You guys didn’t have to wait for permission.”

Cesc shrugged as he joined Iker in the kitchen. “I hadn’t asked and I didn’t know if you minded. We’re going to play some Mario Kart if you want to join us?”

Iker looked at Cesc’s face, wondering if Cesc was just being polite, but after a long day of arguing with a bus company in Charlotte, North Carolina, some video games sounded good.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind. You guys eat yet? I could order a pizza, my treat.”

“Awesome,” Oriol agreed for the both of them, but Cesc was beaming.

“I got some beers,” Cesc said as he scampered back to the couch and scooted Oriol over to make room. 

“Let me change and I’ll be down,” Iker said as he climbed up to the second level.

“Cesc powered up the X-Box and carefully got the game disk out of the package. Iker had an impressive collection of games along with a sizable selection of DVDs and BluRays. It was like having your own video rental store in this flat.

“Your roommate is awesome,” Oriol said as Cesc loaded in the disk.

“I know, right?” Cesc said as he handed a controller to Oriol. “Great rent, amazing location, nice roommate?”

“Hot roommate,” Oriol said with a wink.

“Or!” Cesc said with a blush as he glanced at the stairs to be sure Iker hadn’t reappeared.

‘What, like you didn’t notice!” Oriol replied.

“No comment,” Cesc said as he pretended to focus on setting up the game. Of course he’d noticed that Iker was good looking. Good looking, kind, tidy… 

Cesc knew all of this. But he also knew that Iker was his landlord and roommate. 

And apparently single.

When Sergio had turned up the other day, Cesc had wondered for a minute if they were more than just friends, but it appeared Sergio was hung up on some other guy and not much into Iker. Personally, Cesc thought Sergio was an idiot. He didn’t know who this other guy might be, but he was certainly not much better than Iker.

“You two okay for drinks?” Iker asked, breaking Cesc out of his thoughts.

“Uh, yeah,” Cesc said as he took a long drink from the beer in front of him. 

Iker leaned into the fridge and saw that Cesc had gotten a whole 12 bottles of a Belgian ale. Yup, this kid was a keeper.

* * * *

The reply that finally came to Fernando was “I already know.”

It was early evening and Fernando had worked himself into a frenzy, worrying.

“We need to talk.”

“Why? You made the decision without me. It’s over.”

“Please?”

And then there was silence. Fernando grabbed his keys and headed to the tube station. His first stop was Sergio’s flat in Stratford. Sergio lived in a hipster building in a dinky little studio flat. Fernando had a key even though he’d tried to give it back several times.

He rang the buzzer before letting himself in. When he got no response, a moment of panic seized him. Had Sergio done something stupid?

Fernando ran up the stairs. Sergio could be a drama queen, but he’d never threatened suicide. Sergio was rash, but surely….

When a panicked Fernando slammed into the flat, he found it empty.

“Sese?”

A quick scan showed a generally tidy flat, but with clothes strewn about as Sergio had likely been late to work that morning. Fernando glanced into the bathroom and was relieved to find it empty as we..

With a sigh, Fernando got out his phone.

“Where are you?”

He didn’t actually expect a reply. Fernando tried ringing Sergio’s work, an upscale clothing store in Knightsbridge, but it was after 8 and even if anyone was there, they never answered.

Iker. Sergio would have gone to Iker. For a moment, he thought about texting, but decided that just showing up was probably a better idea. Iker wasn’t likely to be honest about Sergio’s whereabouts anyway. He’d happily lie to protect Sergio.

Fernando knew Iker didn’t like him. Ike had set ideas about love and relationships. Iker didn’t get that you could love more than one person. Need more than one person in your life to make you whole.

Fernando would have kept Sergio and balanced his life for him. But Sergio had Iker in his ear, demanding that Fernando choose. So if Fernando had to take sides, he was going to take the side of his wife and children. It didn’t mean he loved Sergio any less.

The longer Fernando sat on the train, stop after stop, the angrier he got at Iker. Who the hell was he to decide what worked for Sergio and Fernando?

Storming off the train at Fulham Broadway, Fernando had forgotten where he was for a minutes and a herd of teenage boys in Chelsea shirts who were loitering outside the Starbucks recognized the freckled striker.

Twenty selfies later, Fernando made it up the Fulham Road toward Iker’s flat. He saw the light on upstairs and buzzed. There was no response, but a few moment later, feet thundered down the stairs and the door flew open. A young man appeared.

“Oh,” he said, visibly disappointed. “You’re not the pizza.”

“Uhm, no. Is Sergio here?” Fernando asked, well too aware of the look the man was giving him.

“You’re Fernando Torres, shit!”

“Yeah. You are?”

“Cesc, sorry. Iker’s new roommate,” Cesc said as he stepped back to let him in, not even questioning why the sports star was on his doorstep. “Yeah, Sergio is here.”

“Thanks,” Fernando said as he made his way up the stairs.

Cesc peered out into the darkness in search of his late pizza.

The door was open and Fernando stepped in. He found Sergio on the couch in the middle of an intense game of Mario Kart with Iker and someone Fernando didn’t know.

Iker noticed him first. The look of death he shot Fernando would have stopped a lesser man in his tracks.

“Sergio, we need to talk.”

“I’m busy,” Sergio said. He didn’t look up from his game, but he’d clearly been expecting Fernando.

Iker was still glaring and the other man was now gaping at him.

The race ended. Sergio as the only one even still looking at the screen had won easily. Cesc arrived at that moment with two pizza boxes and a six pack of beer.

“Pizza is here!” Cesc announced cheerfully into the tense room. “The beer isn’t very cold.”

“Let’s put it in the fridge,” Iker said as he set down his controller.

Cesc looked from Fernando to Sergio to Oriol who was still gaping. “Everything all right?”

“Fernando was just leaving,” Iker said coldly.

“Not until I talk to Sergio.”

“I’m not letting my pizza get cold while you try to make yourself feel better by making up excuses why you couldn’t even fucking tell me you were CONSIDERING transferring a thousand miles away before you moved the furniture?”

Iker had taken the six pack off of the pizza box and was carrying it to the fridge. Oriol was in the middle of this argument and got very interested in his game controller. Cesc edged to the kitchen with the pizza. He shot a questioning look at Iker who just shook his head.

“I wanted to tell you!” Fernando shot back. “But you never listen!”

“Me? I don’t listen? How about all the times I told you I loved you and you went back to her? Played happy families for the media? Acted like nothing was wrong?”

If it was possible Oriol would have disappeared down into the couch, eaten up by the cushions, but all he could do was pretend he was somewhere else.

“You’re not being fair.”

Sergio got up and stalked past Oriol. “Leave. Just fucking leave. I’ll make this real easy on you and tell you to fuck off out of my life forever.”

“Sergio,” Fernando pleaded as the tears welled up in his eyes. “Don’t do this.”

“Stop it. You don’t get to be the victim,” Sergio said as he wrenched open the door. “You don’t get to be hurt. You did this. You decided. You left me. So fucking leave already.”

Despondent, Fernando did as he was told.

“I still love…”

Sergio slammed the door.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepe wants a date

“So let’s eat pizza,” Sergio said as he turned back to the stunned room.

Dumbfounded, Cesc held out the boxes and Sergio took them. Cesc escaped to the couch where Oriol still sat, sensing he might want to be out of the way.

Sergio set the boxes on the counter and opened the top one. “Seriously, Iker, you and your vegetable pizzas. It’s pizza, man. Live a little.”

Iker gaped at his friend. “Are you okay?” he asked in a low voice.

“Better now that I have pepperoni pizza,” Sergio said as he selected a loaded slice and took a bite.

Iker took the pizza out of his hand when he saw tears in Sergio’s eyes. He wrapped his arms around him and hugged him. 

“I know that wasn’t easy for you.”

Sergio sagged into him as he swallowed hard. “He doesn’t care about me.”

“He does,” Iker countered. “In his own way He just cares about himself, more.”

“He never put me first.”

“No.”

Cesc and Oriol exchanged glances. Neither of them could even begin to process the fact that Fernando Torres had just stormed in here and broken up with his boyfriend.

Sergio pulled away from Iker and wiped his eyes. “It’s done.” He turned to look at Cesc and Oriol who were both staring at their phones. “Show’s over. Let’s eat.”

Iker handed Sergio back his pizza and he took it with a smile.

Cesc and Oriol joined them in the kitchen, hungrily digging into the food, opened new beers, and relaxed.

“I promise life isn't usually this insane around here,” Iker said to Cesc after Oriol and Sergio had wandered back to the couch.

Cesc shrugged. “What’s life without a little drama?”

Iker smiled. “Sergio is a lot of drama.”

Cesc glanced at Sergio who was accusing Oriol of cutting off his car. “You guys been friends for a long time?”

“Yeah. He moved to London about five years ago. I met him at a team event.” Iker didn’t elaborate, remembering being drawn to the attractive, vivacious man who only had eyes for Chelsea’s big new signing. How he’d immediately been enamored with him and had spent over a year pining over him, hoping he’d wake up and get over Fernando.

“Would you two get over here,” Sergio called out as he finished his most recent beer. “And bring me another.”

Iker smiled as he knew Sergio’s cheer would fade with the hangover he was likely o have in the morning, but this was the happiest he’d seen his friend in a while, and went to get him another beer.

* * * *

“Damn, I can’t believe Fernando Torres just turned up at your flat last night,” Oriol mused as he dropped a plate of chips in front of Cesc in the break room. The lunch rush was over and both of them were on break.

“I know, right?” Cesc said as he was still unsure what exactly had gone on there, and hadn’t wanted to ask Iker. “Did you hear he’s transferred back to Madrid?”

“I did. That must have been what the fight was about,” Oriol mused as Cesc poured Mango Lime sauce over his chips. He was still feeling a bit hung over from all the beers they’d put back playing video games last night and it was a well known fact that chips were one of the best hangover cures known to man.

Only slightly edged out by not being an idiot and staying up late drinking beer when you knew you had an early shift the next day.

“What fight?”

Pepe had been in his office looking at the delivery order figures that had come in that morning.

“Uh, nothing,” Cesc said as he shot a look at Oriol to keep his mouth shut. As far as Cesc knew, no one knew Fernando Torres was bisexual, and Cesc did not want to be the one to be spreading the gossip. “Just a friend of my roommate broke up with his boyfriend.”

Oriol stole a chip in punishment for being denied the tasty gossip.

“Your roommate’s name is Iker?” Pepe asked as he set down the clipboard he’d been carrying. He needed to check the inventory, but that could wait a minute.

“Uh, yeah,” Cesc said around a mouthful of spicy chips. He took a long drink of Coke. They were allowed to drink as much fountain drink as they wanted as long as they didn’t waste it and used their own cup. Cesc had found a 32 oz plastic cup at Sainsbury’s and went through at least two a shift.

“Is he single?” Pepe asked with no subtlety.

“Why?” Cesc asked.

Oriol elbowed Cesc. “Uh, cos Pepe thinks your roommate is hot, too.”

“You like him?” Pepe asked, a touch disappointed.

“What, me?” Cesc asked too quickly. “No, no, not at all. You know, roommate. Even if I did fancy him it’s a bad idea!”

“Okay,” Pepe said. “I just thought if he wasn’t seeing anyone I might ask him out.”

Cesc thought this was a terrible idea, but Pepe was his boss and who was he to tell him no. He stuffed more chips in his mouth. Thankfully, Pepe didn’t ask for his phone number or anything and he and Oriol went to sort out the inventory, leaving Cesc to suffer in silence.

It wasn’t that he want to go out with Iker. Maybe he did, he didn’t know, but he certainly didn’t want Iker going out with anyone else right now! Or ever!

“You done with break? I need to take a piss.”

Cesc looked up to see his co-waiter Andy brush past him without actually waiting for a reply. He glanced at his phone and saw his break was indeed over and he got up. Maybe he’d not been entirely truthful with Iker when he’d said he didn’t mind a little bit of drama in his life.

Maybe he’d be perfectly happy with no drama at all.

His phone beeped and a message came up.

“I know you’re in London.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to Ikea

There was a knot in Cesc’s stomach the rest of the afternoon. Surely he hadn’t meant that to be a threatening as it had sounded. Sure, he’d turned Cesc around in circles for years, toying with his emotions, loving the chase more than the actual relationship, but he’d never actually been abusive or controlling.

Sure, Cesc had bolted from town on an early morning flight, not telling anyone where he was going, but it wasn’t like he was on the run. He was just leaving before someone could try to talk him out of it. Or he could talk himself out of it.

As he was finishing his shift, he looked at his phone again with some trepidation. This time, however, the text that appeared was not from Barcelona. 

“What time are you off? I need to go to Ikea - you said you needed somethings?”

Cesc’s heart slowed. Iker. “Now. You want to meet me here?”

“There in 5.”

Cesc smiled as he took off his apron and dropped it in the pail to be washed. This was good. trip to Ikea was exactly the ticket to forget that message.

And he needed some towels. Iker had been happy enough to let him borrow some, but he knew that he needed to grow up and own some of his own.

“You okay?” Pepe asked as Cesc turned down chicken that Oriol offered him to take with him. Cesc never turned down food.

“Sure,” Cesc said. “Just headed out to Ikea and thought I might treat myself to some meatballs.”

“You eat those?” Oriol asked, making a face.

“Uh, hell yes,” Cesc said. “With extra lingonberry jam!”

“You are so gross,” Oriol said as he flipped several chicken breasts deftly and added peri peri sauce. Cesc had often thought that Oriol could easily have gotten a job at some posh restaurant paying way more, but he seemed happy enough here. And he always knew just when to add the sauce so it got caramelized and not burnt.

Pepe’s face lit up and Cesc turned and realized too late that he should have told Iker to meet him down at the tube station.

“Hey Iker, you collecting Cesc?” Pepe asked.

“Yeah, he promised me chicken,” Iker said with a smile. He liked Cesc’s cheerful boss.

“Too bad Cesc wants meatballs that have probably been made out of horses at Ikea,” Pepe said with a tragic sigh.

“Gross,” Iker said as he made a face at Cesc. “You really like those?”

“They’re good!” Cesc protested weakly.

“The boy has no taste at all,” Pepe lamented. “I can have Or grill you up a sandwich before you leave?”

“Maybe next time,” Iker allowed. Cesc had disappeared to come around the other side of the counter.

Pepe eyed Iker for a moment and then lost the nerve to make his request. Iker was took good looking by half.

“Ready?” Iker asked Cesc.

“Don’t buy too many end tables,” Pepe said. “One is enough.”

Iker laughed as he turned to leave. He did like Pepe.

Much to Cesc’s relief, they got out of the restaurant without Pepe making any proposals to Iker. To his utter annoyance, his phone beeped again as they were headed down the escalators to the tub station.

“Annoying ex?” Iker guessed innocently enough when he read the expression on Cesc’s face. However, when Cesc looked up in alarm, he knew he’d struck a chord. “Everything okay?”

“Fine, it’s just, it’s fine,” Cesc said as he peeled away to get a tube ticket. He fumbled at the machine for a moment.

Iker, seeing how distressed the text had made him, gently said, “We need Zone 3- the Ikea is up at Wembley.”

“Wembley!” Cesc said as his expression lightened. “Like the footie stadium Wembley?”

“Yes,” Iker said with a smile. “You can see it from the shop.”

“Cool,” Cesc said, his unhappiness temporarily forgotten as he bought his ticket. “How do you get stuff back on the tube, I mean, if we need anything big?”

“They deliver,” Iker said. “I thought you just needed towels.”

“Oh, I know,” Cesc said, “but an end table wouldn’t go amiss.”

“Only one,” Iker teased.

“But there’s two ends to my bed!” Cesc protested. “By the time I plug in my phone, get my glass of water, you’re running out of room!”

“No where for your book?” Iker asked as they passed through the ticket barriers and turned for the stairs down to the platform.

“Exactly,” Cesc grinned even though he couldn’t remember the last time he’d read a book. At school, surely.

There was mindless chatter on the forty-five minute journey. Cesc had no idea where they were headed, exactly, but Iker deftly changed trains twice like he knew exactly what he was doing, so Cesc didn’t question, just followed along and got off when he was told.

“Look,” Iker said as they disembarked from the train.

Cesc turned in the direction Iker pointed and laughed. “Wembley! Cool! We should go over there. Do you want to go over there? Is it open?”

“Probably not for tours right now,” Iker said, having been to the iconic stadium many times in his work for Chelsea. “But we can walk that way if you want.” Iker glanced at his watch and saw they had several hours before the Ikea would close, and the look of glee on Cesc’ face was too much to ignore.

Cesc began to chatter about his favorite club, Barcelona, and the time they’d won the Champions League at Wembley Stadium a few years back. Iker had no love for the Spanish side, but Cesc’s excitement was infectious.

Iker wondered at Cesc’s past. Something there was dark and haunting, but Cesc managed to remain so positive in spite of it. Some people let the ugliness take them down, refusing to see positivity where it was and instead focus on the negative. 

They walked to the stadium, Cesc nearly jumping for joy as they walked up the Wembley way. Cesc made Iker walk the entire circumference of the stadium, checking out every flag and statue. He had Iker take a picture of him with the arch in the background and sent it to his mom.

“That is so cool, that you can just like take the tube to Wembley whenever you want!” Cesc gushed as they walked back down the road to take them to the Ikea, Cesc glancing back at it several times as he did. 

“It never gets old,” Iker had to agree. “We should go see the Emirates some time.”

“Is that where Arsenal play? That would be awesome!”

“It’s a really cool stadium,” Iker said. 

“I need to go around Stamford Bridge, too. Are there tours?”

“Yeah,” Iker said. “But I’ve got a pass. I can just take you around some time if you’d like.”

“Yeah!” Cesc said happily. “I can’t believe you actual just get to walk around like it’s no big deal!”

“I don’t usually have a lot of reason to. Mostly the staff have passes because the offices are at one end and the press room is at the far end and the only way through is across the stadium.”

“I’d walk around every day just because I could,” Cesc decided as they finally arrived at their intended destination.

Ikea was every bit the adventure that Wembley had been. Cesc had to try out all the chairs and filled a yellow bag with all kinds of things he wanted. He got his towel and several things out of the kitchen department.

“You don't have a wok,” Cesc said slightly apologetically as he wedged the pan in with his towels.

“I have no need of a wok,” Iker replied. “There’s a Chinese take-away around the corner. They deliver.”

“Yeah, but you can’t have take-away all the time,” Cesc argued as he added a couple of utensils. 

“You can’t?” Iker asked as his diet consisted mainly of take-away and ready-meals.

“Oh my god, I’m going to have to start cooking for you, aren’t I?” Cesc said with a shake of his head. His mother had made sure he knew how to fend for himself in the kitchen from an early age. “No one likes a partner who can’t boil an egg, Cescky.”

“Says the man who comes home four nights a week with a bag of Nando’s chicken?”

“Hey, it’s free,” Cesc said. “I ain’t making enough money to pass up free food.”

Iker couldn’t argue with that. The finished their shop, not needing anything to be delivered, and Iker let himself be drug back upstairs for a plate of meatballs and some lingonberry juice. It wasn’t so bad, really, and Iker realized that just about anything that made Cesc’s face light up like it did was worth doing.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some big changes for Iker

Iker was sat at his desk working on an itinerary for the America trip in a few weeks when Carlo came by.

“Got a minute, Iker?”

“Sure, one second,” Iker said as he saved the file, making a mental note that he needed to double check the Charlotte arrival time. “What’s up?”

“You know Lauren, the onsite travel coordinator’s pregnant, right?”

“Sure yeah,” Iker said. “Didn’t I hear she was having twins.”

“Yeah,” Carlo said. “And the doctor has told her that the America trip is a bad idea for her right now.”

“Oh,” Iker said. He’d already assumed that he was going to have to take point on a number of the fall Champion’s League matches this season as Lauren was due in October and was going to take off until at least the first of the year. “Everything alright?”

“She’s fine, just doesn’t need two weeks of racing back and forth across America.”

“So I’m going to America?” Iker correctly guessed.

“Yes,” Carlo said. “Is that going to work out for you?”

Iker knew he didn’t really have a choice, but he appreciated that Carlo at least asked. “Should be. Got the new roommate to keep an eye on the house, so I’m good to go.” He liked America and the summer tours were fun.

“Excellent. And I’m going to need you to take the new intern who’s going to be filling in for Lauren while she’s away to help him learn the ropes.”

Iker’s enthusiasm for the trip began to wane slightly. “New intern?”

“Yeah, his name is Isco. He’s meeting with the board right now, you want to get lunch with him? I thought we’d just take him over to Nando’s?”

“Sure,” Iker said. New intern to break in? If he was anything like that last idiot, Iker was going to in for a long two weeks in America.

Iker had to run to the post office, so he told Carlo he’d meet them at the Nando’s. It was a beautiful summer day in London, and he took his time wandering up the Fulham Road, stopping to treat himself to an espresso at the Starbucks as well. 

When he finally made his way up to the Nando’s, he wondered if Cesc was working today. Cesc left his shift information on the fridge more for himself than Iker, but Iker knew he probably should start looking at it. Not that his life revolved around Cesc at all, but since their trip to Ikea, Cesc would make them dinners when he was off or worked the early shift. Iker was happy to buy the groceries as Cesc whipped up a mean stir fry.

As he entered the place, he looked around and saw that Carlo and the new kid had yet to arrive. He saw Pepe behind the counter and waved.

“Hey!” Pepe said with a broad smile. “What brings you here? I mean, besides amazing chicken?”

“Work lunch,” Iker said. “Cesc working?”

“Nope,” Pepe said. “He’s on evening today. Andy will get you a table. How many?”

“Three,” Iker said as he looked to the long hair waiter who grabbed three menus.

Despite the fact that everyone thought Andy was the crap waiter (Andy knew they didn’t think he heard them when they complained) he was actually quite good at his job. He just wasn’t as sugary friendly as some of the others and knew when customers wanted to be left alone. So he led Iker to a table in the back corner. Work lunch meant keep interruptions to a minimum and chairs, not a booth, please.

He handed Iker the menu, left the other two next to him and disappeared.

Iker glanced at his phone and then the menu. 

“Can I recommend the 2015 Coca-Cola?”

Iker looked up and grinned at Pepe. “Is that a good year?”

“Yes, we got some in just this morning. I installed the new cylinder myself.”

“Excellent,” Iker chuckled. “What does your Fanta look like today?”

“Ah, it’s running a bit syrupy. We have this new kid, Cesc? He always adjusts the mixture a little sweet for my tastes.”

“You have to keep an eye on him.”

“Do you know who has some really excellent Fanta?”

“Where’s that?”

“There’s an Italian place up in Notting Hill that has a really nice orange Fanta.”

“Yeah?” Iker realized that Pepe was asking him out on a date. “I’d like to try that.”

“Wonderful. How about tonight, at eight?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Iker agreed. “Want me to meet you back here?”

“As long as you don’t mind me with a slight ‘Eau de Nandos?“ Pepe asked, stepping back as he realized the two gentlemen who just walked in were headed their way.

“Not at all,” Iker said as he rose to greet Carlo and a really, really good looking young man in a suit.

That wasn’t an intern, that was a model, Iker thought as Pepe greeted them with his usual charm.

Once Pepe left them, Carlo made the introduction. “Iker, this is Isco. Isco, this is your new boss, Iker.”

“Pleasure to meet you, sir,” Isco said with a firm handshake and eye contact.

This kid will be my boss some day if I’m not careful, Iker mused as he returned to his seat. Carlo and Iker were both in polos and khakis, perfectly good work place clothes, but Isco dressed like he wanted to be the head of the Chelsea board.

Though Iker was prepared to hate this kid, he was soon won over. Isco was funny and unselfconscious as they enjoyed their lunch. He had a hundred and one good questions about how the department ran, what kinds of things needed to be considered on an overseas tour and even started putting some dates into his calendar so he could get things sorted out.

He was intelligent, good-looking, and professional. Yeah, he would be Iker’s boss some day.

* * * *

Cesc saw Pepe disappear into the back at about a quarter to eight and reappear in a clean white shirt.

“You leaving soon?” Cesc asked. It was dinner time on a week night and things were fairly slow. Cesc was the only waiter in the dining room and had time to restock the napkins and clean off the drinks machine.

“Hot date,” Pepe said with a wink as he went to check on Oriol. “You’re in charge, mate.”

“Hot date with who?” Cesc persisted as a deep feeling of dread filled the pit of his stomach, but Pepe was filling Oriol in on the state of the office.

“You just need to download the figures and drop the register. I’ll get the deposit in the morning.”

“Cool,” Oriol said, scraping the grill. “Order up, Cesc.”

Cesc reluctantly took the plates to table nine, checked on table fourteen, and bussed table seven. By the time he had a chance to look up, he saw Pepe walking out. Cesc scampered over just in time to see him leave with…Iker?

“Was that Iker?” Cesc demanded of Oriol.

“Uh, yeah,” the cook said as he wiped his hands on his apron. “You didn’t know they were going out?”

“No,” Cesc fretted. “Is that a date? Are they going ton a a date? Why wouldn’t they tell me that?”

“Because they knew you’d freak out?”

“I’m not freaking out,” Cesc dismissed the idea even as he practically had his face pressed up against the window to see them disappear down the escalator.

“Okay,” Oriol said with a chuckle. “I thought you weren’t interested in Iker?”

“I’m not,” Cesc said too quickly. “But that’s my roommate and my boss.”

“Okay, yeah that would suck.”

“Can you even imagine running into Pepe in the bathroom? That would be awkward as fuck,” Cesc moaned even as he turned to greet some new customers with a wide smile. “Table for two?”

“Carry out,” replied one of the women.

“Great,” Cesc said as he took their order. “Give us about five minutes.”

Cesc fretted the rest of his shift. How much of a date was it? Friendly dinner? Want to come back to my place for coffee? Screw the coffee, screw me???

When Cesc’s shift was over, he pelted out of the restaurant, nearly forgetting his dinner as he   
made his way home. Iker would be there. It was just dinner and Iker would be home. He might even be in bed as it was after eleven. Or maybe playing video games. He’d just gotten a new one and Iker could spend hours at it. Yes. Iker would have had a meal to be polite, thank you very much for the nice dinner, now I must go home and play video games all alone because while you are really nice, I want to be at home.

Alone.

The flat was dark when Cesc arrived. 

When he tumbled up the stairs, he knew he wasn’t going to find Iker in bed. 

He opened the door to the darkness, and Iker’s keys weren’t on the hook.

Cesc slumped down onto the couch with a sigh.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected visitor

“Hey.”

Cesc opened an eye and saw Iker peering down at him.

“You fell asleep on the couch,” Iker said with a grin that said he’d had a really good date.

“Oh, yeah,” Cesc said as he struggled to sit up. “What time is it?”

“Just gone two,” Iker said as he dropped to the couch next to him. “You have a rough shift?”

Cesc shook his head as he rubbed his eyes and stretched out the crick in his neck. “Nah, just thought I might play a game before I fell asleep, but I guess that didn’t happen.” Cesc was dying to ask about the date, but he didn’t trust the words that were going to come out of his mouth. He hadn’t really meant to be sitting here waiting for Iker to come home, but as he’d sat here, thinking he’d surely be back soon…

“You on early tomorrow?”

“Off,” Cesc said. “I think…”

Iker chuckled. “Do you know what day it is?”

Cesc shrugged. “I’ve been doing shift work since I was sixteen. Days of the week have little meaning to you after awhile. The only time you get a weekend off is if you ask for it and are grudgingly allowed.”

Iker got up to get himself a glass of water. There had been several glasses of wine at dinner and between that and the pasta, his throat was dry.

Cesc followed, intending to take himself to bed. Iker wasn’t forthcoming with information about his evening, and Cesc didn’t want to ask.

“You want to play a game or something?” Iker asked as he grabbed a clean mug from the sideboard and filled it from the tap. He was keyed up after the date and knew he wouldn’t sleep soon even though he had a nine am meeting.

“Nah,” Cesc said as he made for the stairs, “I’d probably just fall asleep again.”

Iker wanted to ask if Cesc would be home for dinner tomorrow, if he needed to pick anything up from the grocery to fix, but Cesc was gone before the thought could come out. He drained the mug and went back to the couch. 

The date had been fun. Pepe had a great sense of humor and was a great conversationalist. Pepe had shared his adventures in food service. He’d started his career as a kid working at a fish and chips shop around the corner from his house, having dropped out of school with a few GCSEs. He didn’t have much aptitude for school, but when it came to the practical applications of things, Pepe was good on his feet. While math at school had confused him, the idea of income and out-flow were easy enough to understand. You had to balance what you made with what it cost to run a restaurant and price things accordingly. Good food was nothing without great service and vice versa. Well treated employees were vital to the success of a business.

“Why don’t you start your own place?” Iker had questioned.

“Why?” Pepe had replied with a shrug. “Nando’s is a great company to work for. I’m compensated for my work, but I’m not tied to it. If I want to take some time of for a holiday, I’m not in a panic that my own restaurant isn’t being looked after. If I want to move to Liverpool, Nando’s would get me a transfer. Or to America, even.”

Iker couldn’t argue with his logic. There was a lot to be said for a steady income and not having to be your own boss. 

“I’m good at what I do,” Pepe had said. “People shouldn’t try to be something they’re not.”

* * * *

Cesc ended up working the following evening when Pepe called him in to cover for a waiter who’d called in sick. He was happy to escape the flat that afternoon, having spent the morning wallowing. He didn’t want to admit to himself how much of his discomfort at Pepe and Iker dating had to do with his own desires toward Iker. Even without that your boss dating your roommate could never end well.

“Oh hey, Cesc,” Oriol called when he entered at the start of the dinner rush. “I thought you weren’t in today.”

“Wasn’t supposed to be,” Cesc said as he picked up his cup and went to fill it with Coke.

“A guy came by looking for you, Spanish. Said he was a friend of yours.”

Cesc gaped at him as Coke began to overflow onto his hand. With a start, Cesc pulled the cup back, nearly splashing himself with the contents. “Did you get a name? What did he look like?”  
Panic began to fill him.

Oriol frowned. “No. Just…Spanish. Dark hair, short…”

Cesc started to breathe again. Hair. He’d said he had dark hair. 

It’s not him.

“Anyway, I told him you were in for the lunch shift tomorrow if he wanted to stop by. Was that okay?”

“Oh, sure, sure,” Cesc said quickly as he took the towel Oriol offered to wipe down his hand and the drinks machine. “Just, surprised is all. Didn’t figure on too many people from home…you know…stoping in.” Or finding me at all…

They were crushed that evening as there’d been an event at Stamford Bridge for the unveiling of the new season’s kit. The place was full of happy Chelsea fans with bags from the store with big appetites. The shift flew past as Cesc chatted to various people, some having come from as far as America to be at the event.

“Those people are from Texas,” Cesc pointed out as he stopped by to get an order from Oriol.

“That could explain why I could barely understand them when they ordered,” Oriol said under his breath and Cesc elbowed him as he picked up four plates of chicken to deliver. He liked the Americans. They tipped very well.

It was past midnight by the time the last customers left. Cesc locked the door and started picking up chairs so they could mop the floor. Cesc had managed to avoid Pepe most of his shift as Pepe had been busy at the till and Cesc barely had time to take a bathroom break.

But Pepe had been as happy as Iker had been upon returning home the night before. The date had gone well.

Cesc briefly wondered, as he filled the bucket of hot soapy water to clean the floor, if either of them were ever going to say anything to Cesc about it.

Maybe he needed to wait for an invitation to the wedding.

* * * *

“I hate you,” Sergio sighed as he lounged on Iker’s couch.

“I’ve always hated you, so I guess we’re even,” Iker replied as he handed Sergio a fresh beer and sat down to select a new show on Netflicks.

“You have a two week holiday in America…”

“It’s for work.”

“You have a gorgeous new boyfriend…”

“It was one date.”

“And what do I have? Nothing,” Sergio took a drink. “Sherlock.”

“Again?” Iker asked as he’d been attempting to skip past the show. 

“Oh sure, deny me all the pleasure in life with my shit job and no boyfriend,” Sergio put on a pout. “The Great Game.”

“Again?”

Sergio’s pout increased.

“Why am I your friend again?” Iker asked as he begrudgingly turned on the episode.

“You need someone to feel superior to?” Sergio mused.

Iker rolled his eyes as he chucked the remote on the coffee table and settle into the couch. Sergio made pouty eyes, and Iker raised his arm, pulling Sergio into a snuggle.

“I miss him.”

“I know you do,” Iker said as he kissed Sergio’s temple.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I'm sorry...this has been away for ages!
> 
> X
> 
> Cesc's day starts badly

Cesc considered calling in sick to work. What if whoever had come to seem him yesterday came back today? Who was it? What did he want? Who had told him he was working there?

But Cesc never called off work. He needed the money too bad, and he knew that if your boss started to think of you as unreliable, you may as well quit.

He got dressed, finding that Iker had pressed his work shirts for him. Cesc felt a twinge, but pushed it aside as he made his way down the staircase to the kitchen. There was a fresh packet of Frosties in the cupboard with a note.

“I finished yours…sorry!”

Cesc jammed the box back in the cupboard and grabbed his keys. Iker seemed to be trying to make up for something and Cesc didn’t want to know.

Was Iker going out with Pepe again? Had he already? Were they moving in together and Iker was trying to politely let Cesc know he had to move out?

Cesc’s stomach was in a complete knot by the time he rode the escalator up to the restaurant.

And found someone waiting for him.

“Xavi?” Cesc said in surprise as one of his oldest friends was on the bench outside the restaurant.

Xavi’s face broke into a wide smile as he jumped to his feet. “There you are, Cescito.”

Cesc’s eyes filled with tears as he embraced Xavi. Of all the people he’d had to leave behind in Barcelona, Xavi was the one he’d regretted the most. But Xavi was too involved with…everything.

“How did you find me?” Cesc asked as his tears soaked the shoulder of Xavi’s shirt.

“You mum,” Xavi admitted. “But don’t be mad at her. I begged and begged and all she would tell me was that you worked here.”

“Is she worried about me?”

“When is she not,” Xavi said as he finally released Cesc. He looked at his friend and thumbed away the tears. “How are you?”

“Great, actually,” Cesc said as they sat together on the bench. “Good flat, good job.”

There was an awkward moment where Xavi had questions and didn’t know how to ask them.

Finally, Xavi said, “Was it really that bad?”

Cesc turned to look him in the eye. “Yes. I mean…we’d break up and then he’d be charming and coming around all the time and I’d convince myself he really meant it when he said things would change.”

“And I kept convincing you to go back to him,” Xavi said, pain in his eyes.

Cesc reached for his hand. “You were taken in, too. You believed his lies too.”

“I know, but I should have been a better friend to you,” Xavi’s eyes were teary now too. “I should have listened when you told me about the mind games he was playing. I should have encouraged you to stand on your own feet instead of going back into that relationship.”

“He is gorgeous and rich. We both wanted to believe that I was lucky to have him.”

“He was lucky to have you.”

Cesc gave Xavi a watery smile. “He was.”

Xavi squeezed his hand. “I won’t tell him where you are.”

“He got my phone number,” Cesc said. “I got a couple texts.”

“Did you change it?” Xavi asked, concerned.

“No,” Cesc said. “It was only once, and I didn’t want to worry my mum,” Cesc admitted. 

“She worries a lot,” Xavi said. “I’ve talked to her quit a bit, but she does think this was right for you.”

“It’s been really great here in London,” Cesc said, quickly wiping his eyes as he saw Pepe coming up the escalator to unlock the doors.

“Morning,” Pepe said, taking in the situation and smiling. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Cesc said as he got up. “Pepe, this is my old friend, Xavi. Xavi, this is my boss, Pepe.”

“Nice to meet you,” Pepe said as he unlocked the doors. “Cesc, once you get the dining room ready, can you come into my office? I’ve got something I need to discuss with you.”

“Sure,” Cesc said as he turned back to Xavi.

“I suppose I should let you get to work.”

“How long are you in London?” Cesc asked.

“A few days. I booked an open return because I wasn’t sure how long it’d take to find you,” Xavi admitted.

“Xav! You can’t take off work that long!” Cesc admonished. Xavi owned his own corner shop in Barcelona and was a well know workaholic.

“It’s fine,” Xavi assured him. “When are you off tonight? Want to have dinner?”

“I’ll be out of here about five,” Cesc said. “Want to come back and meet me?”

“Looking forward to it,” Xavi said as he gave Cesc a hug. “I’ve got some things I want to talk to you about.”

“Nothing bad?” Cesc asked.

“All good,” Xavi assured him.

Xavi left and Cesc made his way into the restaurant. He wiped at his tears again, and went to the bathroom to blow his nose. 

As he looked at himself in the mirror, he smiled. He had missed Xavi, more than he’d realized. But London was good to him, even if his boss dating his roommate was awkward. Even if he had to watch his money like crazy because this town was expensive. But he was in a good job. Pepe had been increasing his hours. He was going to make it and he was going to be happy.

“You okay?” Pepe asked again as he saw Cesc emerge from the bathroom.

“Yeah, I really am,” Cesc smiled. “Sorry. I haven’t gotten the dining room ready yet.”

“We got time,” Pepe assured him as he joined Cesc in pulling down chairs. “I wanted to talk to you about a management course Nando’s is offering next week.”

“Management?” Cesc asked, startled by the comment. “Me?”

“Yes you,” Pepe said with a chuckle. “I know you’ve only been here a month, but I’m in desperate need of a solid assistant manager I can trust. Oriol does great for me when I leave him in charge, but he’s happy as a cook and doesn’t want to get into management.”

“Wow,” Cesc said as his mind raced. Manager! Like, he’d start making actual money then. Money he could save up. 

“So the course in next Monday down at the central office. You have a day of classes and then you start online training. It takes a couple of weeks, but you get paid for your time. We’ll come in early a few days and I’ll talk you through the basics. So…sound like something you might want to give a try?” Pepe had paused in his work and looked to Cesc who was grinning about a mile wide. He chuckled. “So that’s a yes?”

“Yes!” Cesc said with a happy laugh. “I promise I won’t let you down, Pepe!”

Pepe found himself the recipient of a hug which he happily returned. “So, do you want to hear about the pay increase?”

“Yes please!”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xavi has news

“Iker, you got a second?” Isco asked as he approached Iker’s desk with his iPad in hand. Iker felt like a total dinosaur next to the kid as he still printed off all of his schedules and other paperwork and Isco hadn’t even written down the printer code when Iker had given it to him like he couldn’t imagine a time he’d need a hard copy of anything.

“Sure,” Iker said, “Walk me to the coffee maker?”

Isco fell into step with Iker, still dressed better than Iker some how even though both of them wore dressy trousers and polo shirts. Clothes were made for a body like Isco’s.

“I was going over the Montreal schedule and we’re double booked on Friday afternoon. We have training and also there is an event at the local children’s hospital?”

“I cleared that with Jose,” Iker said as he refilled his mug. “It’s just Hazard, Courtois. and Terry going to that and he said that was fine. It’s a hospital linked to one we support here in town and it was the only time we could fit them in.”

“Ah, right,” Isco said as he made a note on his iPad. 

“Sorry, I should have written that in,” Iker said as he offered coffee to Isco who declined with a shake of his head.

“Nope, my bad,” Isco said. “Should have assumed you had it sorted as you seem to have everything else!”

Iker smiled at the young man. He couldn’t decide if the kid was a career ass kisser or genuinely a nice person. Iker sincerely hoped the latter. Iker liked his job a lot, but he hated some of the interns who came through here. They were desperate to get their foot in the door at a top level organization like Chelsea and didn’t give a crap who they stepped on on their way up the ladder.

“Final schedule meeting tomorrow?” Isco asked.

“9 am at Cobham. If you want to meet me here at 8, we’ll get a car to take us over.”

“Well that sounds well posh,” Isco said with a laugh.

“It’s not that far, but getting a train out there is a nightmare, so Carlo always lets us get a car.”

“Carlo’s a good boss,” Isco said as he followed Iker back to his desk. 

Iker could sense the young man had an actual question to ask him, but was stalling for some reason. He needed to get the Stoke away schedule started and double check the Community Shield info. Too many things to do before they left in two days.

“Guess what!”

Iker and Isco both turned to see Sergio bounding toward them, equal looks of confusion on their faces.

“Sergio?” Iker asked. “What are you doing here?”

“You are looking at the wardrobe consultant for the summer tour.”

“The…what?” Iker asked, confused.

“Wardrobe consultant. You know, when they team has a fancy evening thing, I’m here to make sure they’re fully kitted out in team sponsored clothes!”

“Well, that’s great!” Iker said, hoping the alarm was filtered out of his voice. He did love Sergio, but the drama… He also had to wonder what was up. Since Fernando was gone, certainly it didn’t matter to Sergio to be around the team any more?

And then he remembered: Athletico was going to be playing in the tournament as well.

Fernando would be in America.

* * * *

Xavi and Cesc had dinner at the Italian place Iker had taken Cesc to his first night. Cesc had insisted on treating as he had his promotion to celebrate and he wanted to thank Xavi for coming all this way to see him.

He and Xavi had been friends since school. Xavi was a bit older, but Cesc had taken to the older boy who was always kind. When Xavi left school, he’d taken over his father’s store and had hired Cesc to stock shelves on week nights. They had been fast friends ever since.

“Want to check out my place?” Cesc asked as he threaded his arm through Xavi’s.

“Yes. Will your roommate be home?”

“Might be,” Cesc said, not wanting to think that Iker could be on a date.

“Need to make sure he’s good enough for our Cescky,” Xavi said as he squeezed Cesc’s arm. He still haven’t told Cesc his news.

“He’s great,” Cesc assured him. “And he works for Chelsea so I’m hoping for free tickets.”

“Well that’s useful,” Xavi laughed with him as they approached the now familiar blue door.

Cesc had already worked out the trick to the lock as he jiggled the key and got the door open. The light was on upstairs, so Iker was probably home. As they climbed up, Cesc was assuring Xavi that Iker was an awesome roommate. However, as they neared the front door, they heard shouting.

“WHAT ARE YOU EVEN THINKING?”

“Is that your roommate?” Xavi asked, eyes gone wide.

“Yeah…” Cesc said as he hovered over the door handle with the keys.

“IT’S A GREAT JOB OPPORTUNITY.”

Glancing at Xavi, Cesc went ahead and locked the door. When he pushed it open, he conformed his suspicion that it was Iker and Sergio having the row.

“Hi,” Cesc said with a wave.

Iker saw Cesc had a friend and the steam went out of his argument. With a sigh, he said. “Hey, Cesc.”

Sergio tossed his hair and stalked over to the couch to sit down.

“Iker, this is my friend, Xavi. Xavi, this is Iker and…Sergio.”

“Hey,” Iker said with a smile at Xavi. “Do you work with Cesc?”

“Not for a while,” Xavi said with a smile. “I knew Cesc back in Barcelona.”

This caught Iker’s attention and he actually stopped being mad at Sergio for a moment. Cesc barely talked about his life before he came to London and a friend from the past…

“You visiting?”

“Yup.”

“He’s got a hotel,” Cesc said quickly, lest Iker think that Xavi was going to stay. “He just wanted to see the place.”

“It’s your home too,” Iker said. “You can have guests.”

“I know,” Cesc said. He glanced at Sergio who was pouting for all he was worth. “Want to see upstairs?”

“Uh, sure,” Xavi said as he could see they’d interrupted something.

Cesc grabbed two beers out of the fridge and led Xavi up to the second level of the flat.

“What’s all that?” Xavi muttered as they reached the top and Cesc pushed open his bedroom door.

“No idea,” Cesc said as he switched on the lights. He set the beers on the table and hastily straightened the duvet so they could sit. “Sergio is Iker’s friend,” he said, wondering if he should divulge what he knew, but then again, Xavi was an old friend; he could keep a secret. “He was dating…uh…a married man and the guy moved to another country, but Sergio is still all hung up on him.”

Xavi shook his head as he took the beer Cesc offered him. “You dropped into a telenovela.”

Cesc giggled as he sat on the bed and invited Xavi to do the same. “Iker’s a pretty level headed guy. Why he’s even friends with a guy like Sergio I can't figure out.”

“Who knows?” Xavi said. “I mean, I’m still your friend for some reason.”

“Shut it,” Cesc giggled again.

Xavi smiled as he took another drink. “I need to tell you something.”

“You said,” Cesc replied as he looked at his friend who seemed to be wrestling with something.

“I sold my dad’s shop.”

“You…what?” Cesc sputtered and dribbled beer down his chin. He wiped it away, unable to think of a suitable reply.

“It was never what I wanted,” Xavi said. “You know that.”

“Yeah,” Cesc agreed. Xavi’s dad had died a few years ago. His last wish was for his son to keep running his store. Xavi had been trying, but it was a 24 hour job that never seemed to let up. And then the branch of a big chain, discount store had opened up around the corner last year.

“I got more for it than it was probably worth,” Xavi said, the guilt evident in his voice. 

“What did your mother say?”

“Of course she told me it was up to me to do, but I can tell she’s disappointed. I tried to give the money to her, but she insists she’s fine on the life insurance. Said Dad meant for me to have it.”

“So what are you going to do now?” Cesc asked. 

“I want to go back to school,” Xavi said. “Get a degree. Make a lot more money working real hours.”

Cesc smiled. “You were always clever. Where are you going to enroll.”

“Well,” Xavi said, taking a breath, “I thought maybe about London.”

Cesc’s face split into a wide grin. “Really? Oh Xav, that’s awesome!” He threw his arms around Xavi and hugged him tight. “You will love London, I’m not kidding.”

“Suppose there’s an awesome flat like this I can get?” Xavi asked, his voice envious.

Cesc shrugged. “I dunno, but the school know about flats and stuff. Maybe they have some you can get for a reasonable price?”

“Probably. I applied to a couple. One’s not far from here.”

Cesc beamed. “This is a great area.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chelsea's summer tour kicks off.

Iker had been debating if he was even going to acknowledge Sergio as they waited to board the chartered jet that would the them to Montreal to start their summer training camp. However, when they boarded the plane, Iker saw that Sergio had taken a seat with Cesar Azpilcueta and sat chatting with him and Eden Hazard, not even acknowledging Iker’s presence as he walked past.

Iker rolled his eyes and took the empty seat next to Carlo who was immersed in his phone.

“Sorry,” Carlo said, looking up after a few moments. “We lost Mr. Binky this morning and my wife is about to tear her hair out.”

“It’s fine,” Iker said, having heard tales of Carlo’s 10 month old daughter and her beloved bunny rabbit.

“Mostly I think she’s upset that I’m going away for two weeks.”

“My roommate didn’t even get up to say goodbye,” Iker joked, though it made him think about Cesc, who’d barely been home since his friend Xavi had moved to town. They’d found Xavi a little studio need the university he was going to be attending, and Cesc was spending all of his time helping him get settled. Plus, with his new training at work, Iker felt like he was living alone again.

He sighed and closed his eyes, hoping he could get some sleep on the transatlantic flight.

His phone beeped and Iker glanced at it, seeing a text from Pepe. They’d texted quite a bit since the date, but they’d not been on another.

“You free tonight?”

Crap. He’d forgotten to tell Pepe he left to day for the trip.

“No. Two week business trip. Catch up when we get back?”

“Sure.”

Iker doubted it was a very sure “sure”, but Iker turned off his phone and jammed it into his pocket.

“We found Mr. Binky,” Carlo sighed in relief as he read the latest text. He put away his phone and leaned back in his seat.

“You need a spare Mr. Binky,” Iker advised.

“Oh no,” Carlo chuckled. “She’s smarter than us. She’d figure out the ruse and then we’d have two of them to keep track of!”

Iker chuckled. “When I was a kid, I had a blanket I drug around everywhere with me My mother tried for years to get it off me. It wasn’t much more than a filthy rag.”

“How did she manage it?” Carlo wanted to know.

Iker shrugged. “Never really did. I left it at home when I went to university. I’m pretty sure she still has it somewhere.”

Carlo smiled. “Sometimes I think my wife loves Mr. Binky as much as the baby does.”

The flight was uneventful and Iker did manage to fall asleep after they served lunch. 

However, as soon as the plane touched down, Iker and Isco were busy with customs to navigate (someone had to translate for Diego Costa - even though the Canadian official knew Spanish, Iker had begun to question if Diego spoke anything fluently) Then there was a mix-up with Eva’s paperwork and the agent nearly had her arrested because of all of the drugs she had on her. Iker had spare copies and managed to get the hassled doctor through without a criminal record.

The hotel check-in was smooth and soon everyone was resting in their rooms as Iker sent Isco to double check that dinner was on schedule.

Ticking the last thing off his list, Iker relaxed. When Isco returned with a report that dinner would be ready at 6 and yes they did have the list of dietary requirements in hand, Iker treated them to a beer in the hotel bar.

“It’s going to take me a lot of practice to get as good at this as you are,” Isco said as Iker perused the beer menu. He liked to try local beers when they traveled, but it could be so hit or miss.

“You learn,” Iker assured him. “And if you ever have to sit on a bus with Mikel being sick because the hotel messed up and gave him milk, you learn to double check things.” The Nigerian was desperately lactose intolerant. A slice of pizza could cause all kinds of…discharges. 

Iker shuddered. “I won’t imagine.”

“Now, it’s time to relax,” Iker said as he ordered an interesting looking lager. Isco ordered the same, not being a particular picky drinker.

“Relax?” Isco asked.

“I always bring several books. The pool here looks amazing.”

“But won’t we have to keep track of things?”

“If we did our jobs right in London, this is the easy part,” Iker assured him. 

“Cool,” Isco said as they picked up their beers. 

“Well, at least until one of the players tries to order pay-per-view porn…”

Isco nearly spat out his beer.

* * * *

Montreal was easy enough. Iker didn’t see much of Sergio and got the distinct feeling that his friend was avoiding him. Iker didn’t worry. Sergio went through these phases of acting like he didn’t need Iker in his life, but he’d be back.

They flew to New York for the first of their three friendly matches, and Iker was sitting in the bar, checking his emails when Sergio came flying in.

“Iker! Oscar left his dress shoes in Montreal!”

Iker looked up as his hassled friend. “So get him some more?”

“We leave for the Adidas event in ten minutes!” Sergio wailed. “How do I get a pair of black dress shoes in ten minutes?”

Iker finished his beer and got up. He took Sergio to the concierge, a very efficient woman named Scarlet who’d already managed to find him some of the Brazilian soda Diego wanted. “Mr. Casillas, I see your bus is ready.”

“It is, thank you, Scarlet,” Iker said with a smile. “This is Sergio and we have an emergency.”

Scarlet turned to Sergio with a smile. “Yes?”

“Black dress shoes. Size 12 1/2. We need them, now.”

Scarlet nodded and picked up the phone. “Hi, this is Scarlet at the Plaza. Men’s shoes please….hi Henry, yeah, black, size…” she glanced at Sergio. “Was that UK or US 12 1/2?”

“UK.”

“Size 13,” Scarlet translated. “Yeah, give me a couple of options. Address?”

Sergio looked to Iker who gave Scarlet the address of the Adidas event.

“Right. Put them in a cab right now. Charge it here. Yes. You’re an absolute star, Henry. Love to Mark.”

Scarlet put the phone down. “He’s putting them in a cab. They’ll meet you there.”

“Scarlet, you’re amazing,” Iker said. 

“Thank you,” Sergio said sincerely. 

“Anything else?”

“Sergio here might need a shot of Jack Daniels.”

Scarlet chuckled. “They can help you in the bar.”

Iker said, “Go make sure Oscar has his black socks and we’ll take a cab to meet the shoes. We can get them to him on the bus and he can be ready before they get off.”

Sergio nodded and disappeared while Iker went to get them a taxi. He was waiting for Sergio when he reemerged.

“Yeah, he didn’t have socks,” Sergio said as he was stuffing a packet of spare black socks in his bag, realizing he was going to have to do a sock check before he let anyone off the bus.

“Oscar always forgets something. Always. I call his wife before major trips or he’d turn up at the airport with no passport. I bought a dozen chargers for his phone last year and we went through all of them.”

“He’s not the brightest,” Sergio sighed.

Iker chuckled. “He’s spent the last ten years of his life being waited on hand and foot as a professional athlete. He doesn’t have to think about anything but football.”

“Must be nice,” Sergio said as they made their way through the New York streets. The event was near Time’s Square, and as they got out of the cab, a man from Barney’s was standing at the curb with a bag of shoe boxes.

“Oh bless you,” Sergio said as he approached.

“Size 13 dress shoes,” the man said as he offered the bag. “Which ever ones you need you can keep, and if you drop the rest back with Scarlet, we’ll just charge you for the one pair.” 

Sergio took the bag and Iker slipped him a very nice tip. No one would ever speak ill of Chelsea while he was on the job. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” the man said and got back into his cab as the Chelsea bus pulled up.

They got Oscar shoed and handed out three pairs of socks before shooing the players off the bus.

Sergio and Iker followed them in and found a corner to occupy.

Almost immediately, Iker saw Sergio was looking for someone. It took him about .02 seconds to realize who he was looking for.

Iker bit his tongue. He’d made his feelings clear. There was really no point in getting angry with him any more.

The players from both teams were on stage, answering questions about the new boots, etc. When the players dispersed to mingle in the crowd, Iker saw Sergio zone in on Fernando.

“Hello.”

Fernando’s face lit up when he saw him. “Sese! What are you doing here?”

Sergio grinned. “I work for the club now. Fashion consultant.”

Fernando chuckled. “Of course you are.”

Neither of them acknowledged that the last time they’d spoken, they’d left each other in pieces. It was easy again.

“Oscar nearly turned up in white socks. I serve a very important purpose.”

“Oscar only wears underwear half the time because he usually forgets to pack any,” Fernando chuckled as he spied his former teammate and waved.

“You only wear underwear half the time,” Sergio said under his breath.

“Because when I wake up you’ve taken them,” Fernando muttered back.

“I like wearing them.”

Cesar joined them, hugging his former teammate, and the discussion underwear ended.

However, when Sergio joined the team on the bus back to the hotel for dinner, there was an extra hotel room key in his pocket.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fernando has news

Sergio’s phone beeped. He opened his eyes and looked at it, sat on the bedside table, and wondered exactly how important that text could possibly be. He was wrapped in Fernando and he didn’t want to wake him.

“No,” Fernando said as he tightened his grip.

“It’s nearly eight,” Sergio said, but didn’t move.

“I have to be at breakfast,” Fernando sighed, knowing Diego would have his ass if he missed breakfast on match day.

“What time?”

“Now.”

Sergio sighed. “That’s probably Oscar who can’t find any clean underwear.”

Fernando chuckled. He knew the Brazilian well enough to know this was likely the case. 

But neither man moved. Neither of them could do it.

The phone beeped again.

“Olalla left me.”

Sergio turned to look Fernando in the eye. “What?”

Fernando’s eyes were sad. “She’s known all along I was cheating on her, but she stayed with me because she didn’t want the kids to grow up without me. So she waited until I got transferred back to Spain. She was willing to wait until the end of my career if she needed to, but when I showed up at the house…she told me she’d gotten me the flat across the street.”

“Nando,” Sergio said, joy and sorrow overwhelming him in one moment. He wrapped his arms around Fernando and pulled him close. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” Fernando said honestly. “I did…do love her. I thought…I thought it was all fine. I gave you up for her and…”

“Oh god, oh Nando,” Sergio said as he held him tightly.

“Why couldn’t she have left me in London? I could have stayed in London?”

“But you couldn’t,” Sergio said. “She would have taken the kids back to Spain. Nando, you can’t be away from your kids like that.”

“I know…I know…”

It was on the tip of Sergio’s tongue to say he could move to Spain. He could move to Spain and they could finally be together for real.

But he didn’t.

He waited for Fernando to let him go and then he checked his phone. Zouma had gotten ketchup on his white polo shirt at breakfast, did Sergio have a spare?

He replied that he’d get one to him before the end of breakfast and sat up. “I’ve got to get back.”

“Of course,” Fernando said. Sergio leaned down to kiss him before getting out of bed.

Sergio had a new job in London. One he was really enjoying.

It was like he wasn’t allowed to have everything that could make him happy. He was always having to choose.

* * * *

Sergio and Iker sat in a suite at the Chelsea/Atheltico match that was taking place that evening at Yankee Stadium. Sergio was availing himself to the free beer rather liberally.

“Yes, I’m technically at work,” Sergio said as he sat down with Iker after picking up his third.

Iker shrugged. “The lads are the kit man’s problem tonight.”

“They can worry about Oscar’s pants?” Sergio asked.

“Exactly,” Iker said though he took the beer from Sergio, some strange local brew that seemed to be everywhere in America at the moment. It tasted alright.

Sergio took it back. They looked down at the field where the second half was getting ready to start. He saw Fernando standing at midfield, his foot propped on the ball, his attention on the ref who was waiting on a signal from the television people.

“His wife left him.”

Iker looked at Sergio and got out of his seat.

Sergio frowned, wondering if Iker had heard him, but a moment later, Iker returned with two more cans of beer. “When?”

Sergio took the offered can and set it next to the one he was already drinking. He took a large gulp. “Right after they got back to Madrid. Apparently she’d been planning to leave him forever, just didn’t want to take the kids from him. Now that they’re back in Madrid, she’s thrown him out.”

Iker swore under his breath. “She couldn’t have left him two years ago?”

“I know, right?” Sergio chuckled as he took another long drink of beer. “Iker, I don’t know what to do.”

Iker drank his own beer and thought for a long moment. “What did he say he wants you to do?”

“Nothing….I mean, he only told me this morning as I was leaving.”

Iker nodded. Sounded exactly like Fernando to drop a bomb and then leave. “I suppose even if you move to Madrid, he’s still going to want to hide things between the two of you. I mean, things are better for gays than they used to be, but the Spanish media will have a field day if you move in with him.”

“I know…but I could be with him.”

“And he wouldn’t be cheating any more,” Iker said, understanding Sergio’s unhappiness.

“I know,” Sergio finished the first beer and started on the second. “But my life is in London. Fuck, Iker, I just got this new job. This job kicks ass. Do you have any idea what they pay me to chase after footballers with matching socks?”

Iker smiled. He knew how well he was paid, he could only assume that Sergio was doing alright for himself as well. “You love him.”

“I know,” Sergio said as he tried to fight the tears in his eyes as he gazed down at Fernando on the pitch. Watching his love do what he loved, at the club he loved, living across the street from his kids and having every thing he wanted. “But he always gets what he wants. Always.”

“And you have to take what he’s willing to give.”

Sergio looked at Iker. “I wish I could be strong enough to just let him go.”

Iker took his hand and held it. “Sese, none of us are strong enough when it comes to love. None of us.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iker comes home and Sergio makes a new friend.

Fernando texted Sergio through the rest of the tour, though the clubs didn’t cross paths again. Chelsea had to get back to London for the Community Shield. He never suggested anything to Sergio. Just chatted. 

I love you.

When Chelsea returned to London, Sergio was hired full time in the PR department. Some times he’d been needed for wardrobe, but other days he’d be in the offices at Stamford Bridge. He loved it.

* * * *

Iker got home to find Cesc on the couch with Xavi, playing video games.

“Iker!” Cesc said happily. “How was America?”

“Good. Hot,” Iker said. “I’ll never moan about London weather again. I think I sweated out half of my body weight.”

“Sounds about like Barcelona this time of year,” Xavi said. “I’m kind of liking the rain, myself.”

“So says the man who’s only been in the country a month,” Cesc elbowed Xavi, sending his MarioKart off the track.

“Hey!” Xavi protested as he righted his racer and sped off.

Iker went upstairs to drop off his bag. When he returned Cesc was in the kitchen. 

“We were thinking about a take-away,” Cesc said as he perused an Indian menu. “You want?”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Iker said as he looked in the fridge and saw that Cesc had stocked up on his favorite beer. “You mind?”

“No!” Cesc said with a smile. “We finished yours last week so we thought we’d better refill.”

“You know I don’t mind if you drink them,” Iker said as he opened a bottle.

“Cesc is an assistant manager now. He can afford his own beer,” Xavi said with a cheeky grin at Iker.

“The training went well, then?” Iker asked. He peered over Cesc’s shoulder at the menu like he didn’t actually get the same damn thing every time they ordered from this place. 

“Really well,” Cesc said. “A couple of the classes it was like no one in there had every worked in a restaurant before and I was sat there like, well of COURSE you do that stuff. Do these people even restaurant?”

Iker chuckled. “You’ll be running that place in no time.”

“Hardly,” Cesc said as he grabbed a bit of paper to write down their order. “Tikka Masala and Samosas?”

“Please,” Iker said as Cesc scribbled the order.

“I mean, Pepe is a great manager. I need to work with him for at least a couple years before I’m ready to be a manager.”

“Tandoori,” Xavi said. “And lots of Papadom.”

Iker started for a moment at the mention of Pepe. He’d been gone two weeks and barely thought of the man. He tried to tell himself that he’d been caught up in Sergio’s drama, but he knew that was a lie.

He’d texted Cesc nearly every day he was gone.

Cesc called for the food as Iker and Xavi went to sit on the couch.

“How are you finding London?”

“Great,” Xavi said. “I got a flat and I’m enrolling at the uni this week.”

“What are you studying?” Iker asked.

“Business,” Xavi said. “I ran my dad’s store for years so I know a lot about how a business is run, but no one will hire you without a degree.”

“Isn't that the truth,” Cesc said as he joined them, perching on the chair next to the couch. “I mean, in two weeks of training, I’ve learned the basics of restaurant management. Sure, I need experience, but that happens in a restaurant, not a classroom. More jobs should learn on the job, not with an overpriced uni degree.”

Iker shrugged. “There is some value to going to uni.”

“Sure,” Cesc said. “But not as much as they charge for it. Xavi can afford to take that route because he has money from his dad. I showed up in London with a thousand quid and a box of cookies from my mum. There’s no way I could have started at uni. Luckily, I’ve been able to find a job that’s willing to train me.”

“More companies need to do that,” Xavi agreed. “More courses need to involve a lot more on the job training.”

“And paid training,” Cesc continued. “Sure, you’re new and not very good, but you gotta be able to live while you train. Instead of making money, you’re going into debt. How is that sustainable?”

Xavi shrugged. “People should get compensated for their work.”

“To be fair, we have a lot of crappy interns through our office,” Iker said. “I mean, not even untrained, just poor work ethic. I can deal with you not being able to run the programs we have, but you have to show up on time and dress professionally.”

“Maybe you’re just a crappy boss,” Cesc teased, breaking the serious discussion with a cheeky grin.

“Maybe I am,” Iker replied with a laugh and Xavi glanced between the two men. It had become very clear to Xavi over the past few weeks that Cesc thought the world of his new roommate. Xavi had thought perhaps it was just a harmless crush. After all, Cesc was barely out of an abusive relationship, he wasn’t ready for something new and certainly nothing serious.

But as he watched the men flirt shamelessly - Iker touching Cesc when he didn’t need to, Cesc teasing Iker about everything - Xavi could tell that the crush was mutual. To be honest, he felt a little bit like a third wheel on a date.

To be perfectly honest, Xavi was a little jealous.

* * * *

 

 

“Have you seen Iker?”

Sergio looked up to see Iker’s intern, Isco looking over his cubicle wall.

“Uh,” Sergio thought for a moment. “We had a coffee about an hour ago. I think he said he had a meeting with the hotel manager here?”

“I know, we’re due in five minutes and I can’t find him,” Isco sighed. It really wasn’t like Iker to be late for anything.

“You try and text him?” Sergio asked as he picked up his phone.

“Duh,” Isco rolled his eyes as he got out his own phone. “That would have been the smart thing.”

Sergio smiled at the handsome man. He’d gotten to know him on the trip to America as he was regularly with Iker.

“Knowing Iker, he’s already there and I was supposed to meet him and forgot,” Isco said as he waited for the reply.

“He finished the meeting and is already at lunch,” Sergio grinned.

“He’s got the afternoon work done as well and went home.”

“Sweet, then we can go to lunch,” Sergio joked.

“I don’t think this meeting will take more than an hour. You want to meet for lunch, after?” Isco said as his phone beeped.

“Absolutely,” Sergio agreed. 

“Crap, he is already there,” Isco said as he took off. “I’ll come back?”

“Okay!” Sergio laughed as Isco pelted out of the office. He liked Isco a lot. Looking at his phone again, he saw Fernando had texted. He turned the phone over and went to ask Carlo if he needed any help with the plan for the first match of the season which was coming up quickly.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cesc's first night on his own

Tonight was Cesc’s first night in charge. Pepe was leaving in the afternoon to take his mother out for her birthday, and Cesc would have to run the dinner shift and close. He even had to make the nightly deposit which was making him sweat a little.

It was okay. Cesc knew the accounting program. He could close out the till. He could handle the shift.

“Maybe lay off the Coke,” Oriol suggested when he saw Cesc go to the bathroom for the third time since he’d arrived.

Cesc grinned sheepishly. “I know.”

“You’re fine. You’ve got me on grill and it’s a Wednesday. Unless there’s a Chelsea event no one told us about, we’re never going to be that busy.”

“I’m like, in charge,” Cesc said. “I want to look like I know what I’m doing but I don’t want to be that dick boss that’s forever telling people what to do like they can’t even do their own jobs properly.”

“Just be visible. Worst boss I ever had sat in his office all day and then would randomly appear to tell off people for not working. When the employees know you’re watching, but just casually, not like expecting them to fail or anything, they stay working. And it never hurts to be working yourself.”

“Why aren’t you running this place?” Cesc wanted to know. He was helping Oriol plate up a large order, checking the recipes and piling on the chips.

“Because I hate having to be in charge. Leave me to my grill.”

“You just prefer to be the guru calmly observing?” 

“Exactly. Andy could use some back up in the dining room,” Oriol commented as Andy struggled to seat a party and deliver food.

Cesc smiled and grabbed the plates he’d just filled. He dropped them off at table 16, grabbed a bucket and cleared table 7, before greeting the next guests waiting and seating them at table 5.

“You’re a life saver,” Andy commented as he paused to have a drink in a lull. “I thought you were in charge tonight.”

“I am,” Cesc said. “But when does Pepe just sit on his ass and watch the place burn down?”

Andy shrugged. “I always feel like Pepe is staring over my shoulder, waiting for me to fail.”

“Well, you do take some of the longest bathroom breaks known to man,” Cesc lightly commented.

Andy had the decency to blush. “I been having some drama with my girlfriend, Emma. She texts me all day long at work and then gets all stroppy if I haven’t replied.”

“Uh, she does realize you have to work, right?”

“Yeah,” Andy said with a sigh. “But she thinks I should be able to text.”

“Here,” Cesc held out his hand. “Give me the phone. I’ll put it in the office. Tell her if she needs you in an emergency to call the restaurant, otherwise, you’ll talk to her when you get home. You can tell her your new boss is a real asshole who threatened to fire you if you texted during work any more.”

Andy chuckled. “She’s going to have a fit.”

“Probably. But take her home a plate of chips. Chicks love chips.”

Andy burst out laughing. “You don’t know much about women.”

“Which is why I’m gay.”

* * * *

Xavi stopped in at the end of Cesc’s shift for a plate of hummus and pita. Cesc gave him a free drink.

“What? No free snacks?” Xavi asked as he handed over a fiver for the food.

“Soz,” Cesc grinned as he rang him up. “If you wait until I’m done I’ll share my dinner with you.”

“I’m a poor college student,” Xavi lamented even as Cesc loaded his plate up.

“You have enough money to feed yourself,” Cesc said as he handed it over. He’d let Andy go half an hour ago and he was mostly clearing up the last of the day. One couple sat in the corner, nearly done and he was about to lock the doors.

“I could literally waste away,” Xavi sighed as he glanced at Oriol at the grill and then glanced back again.

When the couple left, Cesc locked the doors and disappeared with the money from the till. Oriol cleaned the grilled. As he started to wipe down the tables and set the chairs up on top of them so he could mop the floor, Xavi got up to help him.

“You really don’t need to,” Oriol said with a smile, but Xavi kept at it anyway. 

“No worries,” Xavi said. “Maybe if I act useful enough, Cesc will offer me a job.”

“You’re his friend from Barcelona,” Oriol said. “The one who stopped by a few weeks ago.”

“Xavi,” he said as he offered his hand to shake.

“Oriol,” he replied with a smile. “There’s a couple spare chicken breasts on the grill if you fancy one.”

Xavi grinned. “I better not.”

“Cesc will probably share with you later, anyway,” Oriol said and went to get the mop as Xavi finished stacking the chairs.

Xavi perched on the counter as Oriol cleaned. They chatted about nothing until Cesc reappeared.

“That was quick,” Cesc said as he saw the shiny floor.

“I had help,” Oriol smiled as he returned to the kitchen to make a plate of all the left overs for the day.

“You need a job?” Cesc joked.

“I do, but I probably shouldn’t work for you,” Xavi said.

“Why not? I used to work for you,” Cesc said. “If you seriously want a job, I can talk to Pepe. We always need weekend people.”

“He’s sounding like a proper manager, now,” Oriol teased as he returned with three plates. They took them to the back room and Cesc grabbed them three beers as Pepe often did. He knew he had to pay for them, but he didn’t mind.

“Someone has to be in charge around here,” Cesc said as he took a bite of chicken.

Oriol finished his up and left, leaving the two friends to enjoy a second beer.

“He’s nice,” Xavi commented lamely.

Cesc grinned widely. “He’s very nice.”

“Shut up,” Xavi laughed as he took a big gulp of beer to hide his embarrassment.

“He doesn’t have a boyfriend,” Cesc commented.

“So anyway,” Xavi desperately tried to change the subject.

“Oh, hey. I can get us two tickets to the Community Shield on Sunday. You want to go?”

“Uh, yeah!” Xavi said. “Chelsea/Arsenal?”

“I figured. Iker gets a couple and he said I could have them.”

“Iker’s nice,” Xavi said.

“Shut up.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know...it's been forever! More to come. I'm in the middle of Nano right now, but this is on my radar. Let me know what you want to come next!
> 
>  
> 
> Cesc and Iker have a moment...

“Should I wear a Chelsea shirt?” Cesc asked as he stood in the kitchen early Sunday morning. He and Iker were going to meet Xavi at the Fulham Broadway Tube station to go up to Wembley together. Iker had to be there early, and Cesc and Xavi were happy to tag along and check out everything there was to see.

“You can if you want,” Iker said. “I thought you were a Barcelona fan.”

“I am, but, you know, when at Wembley…”

Iker sipped his coffee. “Do you have a Chelsea shirt?”

“No…” Cesc made a frown face, that little twisted lip he got when he was slightly confused.

Iker found himself staring at his mouth. Cesc caught him staring.

“Do you want to borrow one?” Iker asked quickly. He wasn’t awake this morning at all.

“Sure.”

“There’s several in my wardrobe. They might be a big big for you, but…”

Cesc nodded and scampered up the spiral staircase, nearly stumbling. For a minute there, Iker looked at him like he might want to swallow him whole. Cesc had wanted him to.

Cesc made his way down to Iker’s bed room. He’d peeked in a few times in the months he’d lived here, but whenever they hung out, it was always down stairs. It was, as the rest of Iker, well organized. He made his way to the wardrobe and found a pile of polo shirts with the Chelsea logo on them. 

He made a face. It was all well and good for Iker to be a company man and look like he was ready for a golf outing, but Cesc was going to his first game at Wembley! He wanted to look like a real fan and be a little…fanatical.

Digging through the pile, he came up with a team jersey. It didn’t have a name on it and it was definitely a size too big for Cesc, but he peeled off his t-shirt and pulled it on.

“Looks good,” Iker said. He hadn’t been standing in the door watching Cesc change his shirt. Honestly. He’d come up to get his watch.

“Is blue my color?” Cesc asked as he modeled the shirt.

“Absolutely,” Iker said as he stepped forward and picked up the t-shirt Cesc had abandoned. 

“Sorry,” Cesc said as he reached for it.

“It’s okay,” Iker said as he held on to it a little too long. Christ, what was wrong with him this morning?

Having a crush on your roommate is stupid. This is insane, Cesc, he thought as he fled with the shirt. Iker was just…tired was all. It was early and they’d been up too late playing video games. Cesc was just off on an adventure today. Iker had to work. Working was on his mind and that was all.

He threw the t-shirt onto his own less than immaculate bed and went to grab his wallet and his keys. He and Xavi would make their own way back this evening as Iker may or may not have additional work to do depending on the outcome of the match.

They met awkwardly at the door.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

On the way to the tube station, Cesc chattered nervously. “Will the Starbucks be open? I hope the Starbucks is open. I need a coffee.”

“You seem wide away to me,” Iker teased him and it broke the tension those lustful looks had caused.

Cesc grinned at him. “Maybe.”

See, Cesc. It was nothing. Half asleep Iker on a Sunday morning was not Iker wanting to…do…untoward things to Cesc.

Indeed the Starbuck was open and Xavi was found inside ordering a Venti and a muffin.

“Oh, hey guys,” Xavi said with a smile. “You want to add to my order? My treat.”

“You don’t have to,” Iker demurred, but Xavi insisted as Iker had gotten them the tickets to the match. Cesc had his favorite: a cheese and marmite panini. Iker had a chocolate muffin.

On the nearly deserted train, Xavi couldn’t help but notice Iker and Cesc teasing each other more than usual. 

Cesc was so much different than he was back in Barcelona, Xavi had noticed. He was confident and self assured. It was no wonder that a kind, successful, never mind completely hot, man like Iker was interested in him. It was exactly what Cesc deserved.

It was funny that Xavi and Cesc never got together themselves. Cesc was younger and Xavi had always seen him as a little brother. And then Cesc had always had a boyfriend so it never really became an issue between them. Cesc was that good friend who you could always talk to and he was grateful to have him in his life.

When they got to Wembley, Cesc skipped up the Wembley Way. It was nearly deserted at this hour. “We’re going to Wem-bl-ey!” 

“He is such a dork,” Iker laughed with Xavi as Cesc skipped ahead of them.

“He really is,” Xavi agreed. “He’s the best kind of dork.”

“The best,” Iker echoed.

“He’s happy here,” Xavi commented. “Happier than I’ve seen him.”

“He certainly brightened up my life,” Iker said as Cesc plunged head long up the right hand ramp that led to the stadium.

“You’re good for each other,” Xavi said with a wink and chased after Cesc.

Iker blushed a little, but thankfully the other two had reached the top of the ramp and were parading around like they’d won something. His life was better with Cesc in it. What had his gran always told him? “Marry the person who makes you smile every day.”

Marry, what was he even thinking.

“WHOOOO!” Cesc ran up to Iker who’d finally arrived at the concourse of the stadium. Cesc beamed at Iker who burst out laughing.

“Have you two been drinking already?”

“Espresso,” Cesc grinned in his face. 

“You are too much,” Iker said, the urge to kiss Cesc coming over him again. Cesc’s smile faded into something else.

There was a long moment where they gazed into each other’s eyes and then Xavi said, “Hey, is that Sir Bobby Moore?”

Both turned to look and took a step away from each other, “Uh, yeah,” Iker said.

“Cool,” Xavi was staring up at it, not even realizing what he’d interrupted.

At the door, they flashed passes. Iker headed downstairs to the team area to get things ready and Cesc and Xavi were shown to a deserted bar area where even the bartender was sipping a cup of coffee and reading the paper.

“So early,” Cesc said as he made his way over to the window which looked out onto the pristine green pitch of Wembley. He nearly pressed his nose against the glass. “Whoa.”

“Whoa,” Xavi echoed.

“I know this might be illegal for me to say as a passport carrying Catalan, but that place might be more awesome than Camp Nou.”

“I’m telling,” Xavi said with a grin. “That grass is pretty awesome.”

“I love it,” Cesc sighed happily.

“You guys need something?” the bartender asked, and Cesc and Xavi made their way over.

“Is it too early to drink?” Cesc asked as he looked at his watch and realized it was just past ten.

“Never,” the bartender said. He was an handsome man. His name tag said his name was Jordi. “Beer?”

“Why not,” Xavi agreed as he and Cesc sat. Jordi pulled the pints and Cesc got out his wallet. Jordi waved him away. 

“It’s an open bar.”

“Damn,” Xavi said as he and Cesc clinked glasses. Cesc shoved a fiver in Jordi’s tip cup anyway. He knew what it was like to work for tips.

“So,” Xavi said after half of the pints were gone. “You. Iker.”

“What?” Cesc asked as he was unable to meet his gaze, suddenly very interested in the Sky Sports feed on the silent TV behind Jordi.

“I saw you two all flirty. Anything up?”

“No,” Cesc blushed hotly. “He’s my roommate. My landlord.”

“He’s hot and he’s single and he wants you!” Xavi protested.

“I know,” Cesc said and then covered his mouth.

“You want him too!” Xavi said happily! “Cesc! You should go for it!”

“I have an amazing flat and a great life! I can’t ruin that!”

But Xavi was smiling. “You’re ready.”

“What?”

“You didn’t even consider him in all of this, did you?”

Cesc paused, and then a smile spread across his face. “I haven’t thought about him all day.”

“You’re over him,” Xavi said with a smile.

“I am.”

Xavi clinked his glass against Cesc’s. “Go for Iker.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sergio has advice for Iker.

Sergio, Iker, and Isco were sat in the Chelsea suite. The game had a slow, pre-season feeling to it, and they were getting a little bored.

Sergio’s phone beeped. Isco glanced at him, but didn’t comment. Sergio frowned at the phone and then stuffed it back in his pocket. “I so need a beer. You guys want?”

“Sure,” Iker said. “I’ll come join you at the half.”

“I’ll come with you,” Isco said as he got up. Iker side-eyed the pair of them as they really should be watching the game, but he had to admit it was pretty dire and it was nearly half time.

Sergio’s phone beeped again as they waited at the bar for their drinks.

“Hot date?” Isco asked. It had been several weeks that he’d been working with the gorgeous man, and he’d been nothing but interested, but Sergio was always a little distant. He had an idea that there was an ex not quite out of the picture, but Sergio never said anything.

“No,” Sergio said as he picked up his beer to take a long drink.

Awkward, Isco thought as he too took a drink.

“Sorry,” Sergio said. “It’s….my ex-boyfriend. Well, We broke up and he moved away and now he wants me to drop everything and move across Europe to be with him…it’s a long story.”

“Exes suck,” Isco agreed. “It’s like, you broke up with me. Go away now.”

“Well, I broke up with him…kind of,” Sergio sighed. “He was married.”

“Oh.” Isco hadn’t intended for that syllable to be so judgmental.

“I know,” Sergio said. “And I finally got myself together to leave him and now he’s getting a divorce.”

Isco blinked. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. She left him. Suddenly after years she just ups and leaves him.”

“So you leave him, she leaves him, now he’s alone and wants you back?” Isco correctly interpreted. “I’m sorry, but that’s bullshit. You deserve better than that.”

Sergio smiled. “You think?”

A moment passed between them, interrupted by a loud cheer from the stands.

“Don’t tell me we just scored?” Sergio asked as he looked to the dozens of TV monitors in the lounge area.

“Hazard,” the bartender said. “It was sweet.”

“Of course it was,” Isco sighed. 

The half time whistle blew and the crowds herded in from the stands. They grabbed Iker’s beer and claimed a table in the corner.

Iker joined them. “Thanks guys. You missed a screamer.”

“Of course we did,” Sergio said. “You do realize that if we hadn’t left, it’d still be 0-0.”

“Maybe you should hang out here the rest of the match,” Iker said.

Isco got caught up in a conversation with Carlo and Iker leaned in to Sergio. “Can I tell you something you have to swear to not repeat to anyone?”

“Totally,” Sergio said, already intrigued. Iker never had juicy secrets.

“I almost kissed Cesc this morning.”

“YOU DID WHAT?”

Carlo and Isco looked over as a mortified Iker started to take a long drink of his beer.

“Shhh,” he demanded once they were being ignored again. 

But Sergio was grinning widely. “Yes! He’s adorable and dorky and you lurrrrve him!”

“I do not! He’s my roommate, for fuck’s sake. I can’t start screwing my roommate!”

“Uh, yes you can,” Sergio said. “He’s single. You’re so single it’s a wonder you still have any idea what your cock is for.”

“I swear to god, Sergio,” Iker flushed red. “It was only nearly a kiss.”

“Don’t only nearly anything. Do it. Do HIM.” Sergio had finished his beer already and his tongue was loose. “At least one of us should be getting laid.”

Iker shrugged.

“Fernando texted.”

“Please tell me just wants your recipe for spinach dip.”

Sergio let out a giggle. “He wants me to come see him in Madrid.”

“Over my dead body,” Iker said as Sergio picked up his beer and took a drink. 

“Okay,” Sergio said. “I won’t go to Madrid if you make a move on Cesc.”

“I am not going to make a bad decision to keep you from making one!” Iker protested.

“It’s not bad. Isco,” Sergio said as Carlo departed and he pulled him back into the conversation. “You’ve met Iker’s roommate, right?”

“Cesc? The manager over at Nando’s?”

“Assistant,” Iker corrected too quickly.

“Sure,” Isco said with a slight frown. “He’s adorable.”

“He is adorable,” Sergio agreed and the frown deepened. “Iker is in love with him.”

The frown vanished. “Go for it.”

“He’s my roommate!”

“it’s your flat, right?” Isco pressed. “So if it goes bad, you can chuck him out.”

“He has a lease!”

“You buy him out. Whatever,” Isco nodded.

“I told you. Go for it.”

“Go. For. It.”

The second half started and the crowd filtered back to their seats. Could Iker do it? Would it work? He’d never had much luck dating. Sergio was about all the drama he needed in his life.

* * * *

Chelsea managed to hold on to their one nil lead in a match that no one not wearing a blue shirt even slightly enjoyed. 

Cesc and Xavi had drunk far, far too many beers and stumbled, drunk toward the tube station in a herd of 90 thousand football fans.

“Whoa,” Cesc said as he leaned his forehead into Xavi’s back as they made their wait patiently toward the waiting trains.

“You puke on my shirt and we are not friends any more,” Xavi warned, slightly the less drunk of the two.

“I don’t puke,” Cesc said with false confidence.

The two managed to score seats on the Jubilee line and nearly fell asleep on the long, hot journey to Westminster where they changed trains to the District Line, thankfully getting a Wimbledon train so that they wouldn’t have to change at Earl’s Court. No one liked changing trains at Earl’s Court. No one.

They arrived at Fulham Broadway, sobered up and dying for some chicken and chips. They made their way upstairs to the Nando’s.

“Big win!” Pepe called as she spotted the pair. “How was the match.”

“Good,” Cesc said with a smile as he waved to Oriol who looked at Xavi too long and then looked away quickly. “We’re starved.”

“You’re lucky it’s slow,” Pepe teased. It was nearly seven on a Sunday night and the place was indeed nearly empty. 

But over in one corner, at a table that couldn’t be seen very well from where Cesc was standing, joking with Pepe and Oriol, was the last person on Earth Cesc would want to see.

Andy was covering the dining room, but even as he kept an eye on things, Pepe didn’t mind when he sat to join them for a small mountain of chips and some Coke.

The man sat and watched as Cesc laughed with his colleagues and friends, dunking chips in Peri-Peri sauce and managing to get some on Iker’s shirt.

About a hour after they arrived, Iker showed up, having had a feeling that Cesc would be there. He and Pepe shared a smile, and understanding come between them that while they could be friends, there wasn’t much there, and that they both loved Cesc, there wasn’t any point in holding on to bad feelings.

“Cesc, your keeper has come to take you home,” Xavi said as he spied him before Cesc who was trying to get Peri-Peri off his top.

“Oh, crap. I’ll wash it, I promised!” Cesc said quickly.

“You can keep the shirt,” Iker told him. “I don’t think I’ve ever worn it, anyway.”

“Really?” Cesc said, too much alcohol in his system to be trusted to speak. “It smells like you.”

Xavi let out a snort.

“You better take him home,” Pepe advised as Cesc went pink. “He’s not fit to be in public.”

“You want something to eat?” Cesc asked as Iker grabbed a chip.

“Sergio and I grabbed a burger.”

Pepe clutched his heart like he was mortally wounded by this slight. “A burger!”

“Sorry,” Iker chuckled. In truth, his stomach was churning. Cesc was so gorgeous there amongst his friends. So alive and happy. And now they were headed home alone together. Was Iker going to do something? How would Cesc react?

They were quiet after saying farewell to Xavi at the door.

Finally, as they turned off Fulham Road down toward the flat, Iker spoke. “You have a good time?”

“The best,” Cesc said with a smile. “Thanks again for getting us the tickets.”

“No worries,” Iker said. Say something. Do something.

But Cesc was rather studiously not looking at Iker. Convinced the desire was all on his side. That maybe he’d had too much to drink that day to make a good choice.

They arrived at the front door. Iker went for his keys, having to jiggle the lock that ever wanted to open on the first turn. His hands shaking and making it even harder.

“Cesc.”

Cesc turned and the floor dropped out of his world.

“Pep.”

Iker opened the door, and looked back to see who had joined them. “Who’s this?”

“An old friend,” Pep said with a smile that Iker didn’t like.

Cesc took a step toward backward toward Iker. “My ex-boyfriend.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How will Cesc handle the appearance of his ex?

“Can we talk?” Pep asked with a smile that Cesc used to fall for every time. That smile that said you could trust him. That smile that had done nothing but lie to Cesc. Manipulate him. Hurt him.

“No,” Cesc said. He took another step back, and he ran into Iker, who laid a hand on his hip to settle him. “No, I don’t want to talk to you.”

Iker glared over Cesc’s shoulder. “Perhaps you should go.”

“Are you my replacement?” Pep asked, the charming veneer sliding slightly.

“Iker is my roommate. And my friend,” Cesc said as he straightened his spine. Behind him, Iker was unlocking the door, his hand never leaving Cesc, prepared to get in the way if this guy tried anything.

Pep sighed. “I just want to talk.”

“And I said I’ve got nothing to say. Good night,” Cesc said as Iker pulled him into the building, giving Pep a menacing glare as he pulled the door securely behind them.

Iker didn’t ask anything as Cesc went running up the stairs. He waited for a moment to make sure the man left, and then followed him up. When he got into the flat Cesc was on the couch, head in his hands, crying.

Iker went to his side, putting an arm around him, and soon Cesc was crying his his shoulder. Iker held him, stroking his back, willing Cesc to feel better.

“Who was that guy?” Iker finally asked when Cesc’s tears slowed.

“My ex,” Cesc said. “He…he’s the reason I moved to London.”

Iker processed this for a moment. It must have been awful, he thought. Cesc had shown up out of the blue with a duffle bag and a few hundred bucks. Had refused to talk about his life before.

“Do we…do we need to call the police?” Iker asked as he assumed the worst.

“No,” Cesc sniffled and pulled away. “He’s just a jerk.”

Iker thumbed the tears away. “Must be some jerk.”

Cesc gave him a crooked smile. “It’s a long story.”

“I got time,” Iker said and wanted to kiss Cesc so badly his soul ached. Wanted to kiss away all of the pain that had surfaced in those chocolate brown eyes.

But he resisted the urge, knowing Cesc needed a friend right now more than he needed a lover. 

Cesc sniffed. “I met Pep when I was at school. He was the coach of my football team. Nothing happened while I was in school,” he added quickly as a trace of judgment had entered Iker’s expression. “But I did have a wicked crush on him. He was charming and, well, hot.”

Iker gave him a small smile as he reached for Cesc, pulling him to his side as he leaned against the back of the sofa. Cesc settled in to the space under Iker’s arm, laying his head on his chest. A perfect fit.

He continued. “I wasn’t ever really that great at football, but Pep always encouraged me. When I left school, I was going to give up on football, but he encouraged me to join a club side on the weekends. The summer after I graduated, we spent a lot of time together. I was in awe of him, this older, attractive man who made me feel like the most desirable person in the whole world. When we became lovers, I thought I had everything in the world I could ever want.”

Iker idly stroked Cesc’s back, having a feeling where this story was going. 

“And for awhile, it was amazing. But then he started asking me where I was going all of the time. Who I was going to be with. What we were going to be doing. He texted me all the time. At first I thought it was sweet. That he wanted to keep an eye on me. Even Xavi thought I was so lucky…but then if I didn't respond right away, he’d get angry. He accused me of having an affair with Xavi…” Cesc trailed off.

Iker smiled into the top of Cesc’s head. The idea of Cesc and Xavi having an affair was insanity. They were brothers, plain and simple.

“After awhile it got so bad, I left him. And then he would cajole me into coming back. Insisting that I was overreacting and that he’d change. But after awhile it would be the same. Other people thought I was overreacting, too. I left him three times before my mother realized how bad he was for me. She was the one who convinced me that the only escape would be to leave Barcelona. Even Xavi didn’t realized how bad it had gotten.”

“People like that are hard to give up on,” Iker said after a moment’s silence. “It’s like Sergio with Fernando. When it’s good, it’s so good. They’re everything you want in a partner and more. But that’s not reality. And when the light of day shines on it, you realize that you’re kidding yourself. That fantasy isn’t going to last.”

“And it’s so hard to walk away from something that felt that good,” Cesc agreed. “You want to feel that good all the time and even a chance you can find it again…”

“I know,” Iker said as he held Cesc to him. His heart wanted to make rash promises to Cesc. That he wouldn’t be like that. That what they could have would be real and would last.

“Have you ever been in love, Iker?”

The question gave Iker pause. He thought about past boyfriends. He thought about how they’d made him happy for a while, but things hand never lasted. “You know, I don’t think so.”

“Really?” Cesc asked as he sat up to look Iker in the eye. Curious.

Iker couldn’t meet his gaze. “I mean, I’ve had relationships, but never anyone I couldn’t imagine my life without.” Not like this.

Cesc nodded as he tried to catch Iker’s eye. Tell Iker how much his support meant to him. Even as he thought about what Iker said, he realized that if he tried to imagine his life without Iker, his heart felt like it would break.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” Cesc said quietly as he too looked away. “It’s that everyday comfortable that you really want. The passion is great, but the stability and comfort is what truly makes us happy.”

“Imagine if you could find both in one person,” Iker said.

Their eyes met through the charged air. Both men not wanting to make the first move. Both afraid of the reaction.

“Iker,” Cesc said as he licked his lips. “I…I don’t…I don’t want you to think this is some kind of reaction to Pep being here.”

“Want what?” Iker asked.

“This,” Cesc said as he dove forward, crashing his nose into Iker’s and they both recoiled.

“SHIT! Sorry!” Cesc said as he started to run, but Iker grabbed his shirt.

“Don’t you dare,” Iker breathed as he pulled Cesc back toward him, tipping his head so that this time their lips met perfectly.


End file.
